CHURCHILL 


CALIFORNIA  I 

SAN  01  EGO         j 


RICHARD    CARVEL 


Ttie2)<V>^o 


^  ^"*-  o 


RICHARD    CARVEL 


BY 

WINSTON    CHURCHILL 

AUTHOR    OF    "  THE    CELEBRITY,"    ETC.,    BTC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
CARLTON  T.  CHAPMAN  AND  MALCOLM  FRASER 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 
1900 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1899, 
By  the  M  ACM  ill  an   COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  May,  1899.  Reprinted  June  four  times, 
July  three  times,  August  five  times,  September  four  times,  October 
three  times,  November,  December  three  times,  1899;  January,  1900. 
February,  March,  July,  September,  iqoo. 


STottonoli  ^rtss 

J.  S.  Cushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


TO 

JAMES  E.  YEATMAN",  ESQUIRE 
<©f  .Saint  ILouts 

AK    AMERICAN    GENTLEMAN    WHOSE    LIFE    IS 
AN    EXAMPLE    TO    HIS    COUNTRYMEN 


FOREWORD 

Mt  sons  and  daughters  have  tried  to  persuade  me  to  remodel 
these  memoirs  of  my  grandfather  into  a  latter-day  romance. 
But  I  have  thought  it  wiser  to  leave  them  as  he  wrote  them. 
Albeit  they  contain  some  details  not  of  interest  to  the  general 
public,  to  my  notion  it  is  such  imperfections  as  these  which 
lend  to  them  the  reality  they  bear.  Certain  it  is,  when  read- 
ing them,  I  live  his  life  over  again. 

Needless  to  say,  Mr.  Kichard  Carvel  never  intended  them 
for  publication.  His  first  apology  would  be  for  his  Scotch, 
and  his  only  defence  is  that  he  was  not  a  Scotchman. 

The  lively  capital  which  once  reflected  the  wit  and  fashion 
of  Europe  has  fallen  into  decay.  The  silent  streets  no  more 
echo  with  the  rumble  of  coaches  and  gay  chariots,  and  grass^ 
grows  where  busy  merchants  trod.  Stately  ball-rooms,  where 
beauty  once  reigned,  are  cold  and  empty  and  mildewed,  and 
halls,  where  laughter  rang,  are  silent.  Time  was  when  every 
wide-throated  chimney  poured  forth  its  cloud  of  smoke,  when 
every  andiron  held  a  generous  log,  —  andirons  which  are  now 
gone  to  decorate  Mr.  Centennial's  home  in  New  York  or  lie 
with  a  tag  in  the  window  of  some  curio  shop.  The  mantel, 
carved  in  delicate  wreaths,  is  boarded  up,  and  an  unsightly 
stove  mocks  the  gilded  ceiling.  Children  romp  in  that  room 
with  the  silver  door-knobs,  where  my  master  and  his  lady  were 


viii  FOREWORD 

wont  to  sit  at  cards  in  silk  and  brocade,  while  liveried  blacks 
entered  on  tiptoe.  No  marble  Cupids  or  tall  Dianas  fill  tbe 
niches  in  the  staircase,  and  the  mahogany  board,  round  which 
has  been  gathered  many  a  famous  toast  and  wit,  is  gone  from 
the  dining  room. 

But  Mr.  Carvel's  town  house  in  Annapolis  stands  to-day, 
with  its  neighbours,  a  mournful  relic  of  a  glory  that  is  past. 

DANIEL  CLAPSADDLE  CARVEL. 

Calvbkt  House,  Pennsylvania, 
December  21, 1876. 


CONTENTS 


OHAPTBB 

PAffB 

I. 

Lionel  Carvel,  of  Carvel  Hall 1 

11. 

Some  Memories  of  Childhood 

6 

III. 

Caught  by  the  Tide 

16 

IV. 

Grafton  would  heal  an  Old  Breach  . 

27 

V. 

"  If  Ladies  be  but  Young  and  Fair  " 

41 

VI. 

I  first  suffer  for  the  Cause 

50 

VII. 

Grafton  has  his  Chance    . 

.       61 

VIII. 

Over  the  Wall 

.      70 

IX. 

Under  False  Colours 

78 

X. 

The  Red  in  the  Carvel  Blood    . 

.      91 

XI. 

A  Festival  and  a  Parting  .... 

103 

XII. 

News  from  a  Far  Country 

116 

XIII. 

Mr.  Allen  shows  his  Hand 

125 

XIV. 

The  Volte  Coupe 

136 

XV. 

Of  which  the  Rector  has  the  Worst . 

.     144 

XVI. 

In  which  Some  Things  are  made  Clear 

154 

XVII. 

South  River 

169 

XVIII. 

The  Black  Moll 

164 

XIX. 

A  Man  of  Destiny 

174 

XX. 

A  Sad  Home-coming         .... 

184 

XXI. 

The  Gardener's  Cottage    . 

195 

XXII. 

On  the  Road 

203 

IX 


CONTENTS 


OHAPTBB  PA.eB 

XXIII.  London  Town 215 

XXIV,  Castle  Yard 227 

XXV.  The  Rescue 234 

XXVI.  The  Part  Horatio  played 244 

XXVII.  In  which  I  am  sore  tempted 253 

XXVIII.  Arlington  Street 264 

XXIX.  I  meet  a  very  Great  Young  Man 271 

XXX.  A  Conspiracy 279 

XXXI.  "Upstairs  into  the  World" 290 

XXXII.  Lady  Tankerville's  Drum-major 303 

XXXIII.  Drury  Lane 313 

XXXIV.  His  Grace  makes  Advances 323 

XXXV.  In  which  my  Lord  Baltimore  appears   ....  329 

XXXVI.  A  Glimpse  of  Mr.  Garrick 337 

XXXVII.  The  Serpentine 344 

XXXVIII.  In  which  I  am  roundly  brought  to  task  .        .        .354 

XXXIX.  Holland  House 362 

XL.  Vauxhall 372 

XLI.  The  Wilderness 380 

XLII.  My  Friends  are  proven 389 

XLIII.  Annapolis  once  more 395 

XLIV.  Noblesse  Oblige 404 

XLV.  The  House  of  Memories .413 

XLVI.  Gordon's  Pride 422 

XLVII.  Visitors 427 

XLVIIL  Multum  in  Parvo 438 

XLIX.  Liberty  loses  a  Friend 448 

L.  Farewell  to  Gordon's 457 

LL  How  an  Idle  Prophecy  came  to  pass      ....  463 


CONTENTS 


XI 


OHAPTKB 

LII.  How  the  Gardener's  Son  fought  the  Serapis 

LIII.  In  which  I  make  Some  Discoveries 

LIV.  More  Discoveries 

LV.  "  The  Love  of  a  Maid  for  a  Man  " 

LVI.  How  Good  came  out  of  Evil 

LVII.  I  come  to  my  Own  again    . 


PAOB 

475 
490 

500 
512 
521 
532 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

If  I  might  kill  this  monster,  I  would  die  willingly      Frontispiece  381 

One  fifteenth  of  June 11 

"  Why  do  you  not  come  over,  as  you  used  to  ?  "  .        .        .        .  83 

•*  Are  ye  kelpie  or  pirate  ?  " 174 

In  walked  John  Paul  himself 192 

**  You  .  .  .  would  sell  your  daughter  and   your  honour  for  a 

title  1" 38? 

We  might  have  tossed  a  biscuit  aboard  the  Serapis     .        ,        .  483 

With  the  first  strawberries  of  the  year          <         .        »        o        .  536 


xiu 


RICHARD   CARVEL 

CHAPTER  I 

LIONEL   CARVEL,    OF   CARVEL   HALL 

Lionel  Carvel,  Esq.,  of  Carvel  Hall,  in  the  county  of  Queen 
Anne,  was  no  inconsiderable  man  in  his  Lordship's  province 
of  Maryland,  and  indeed  he  was  not  unknown  in  the  colonial 
capitals  from  Williamsburg  to  Boston.  When  his  ships  arrived 
out,  in  May  or  June,  they  made  a  goodly  showing  at  the 
wharves,  and  his  captains  were  ever  shrewd  men  of  judgment 
who  sniffed  a  Frenchman  on  the  horizon,  so  that  none  of  the 
Carvel  tobacco  ever  went,  in  that  way,  to  gladden  a  Gallic 
heart.  Mr.  Carvel's  acres  were  both  rich  and  broad,  and  his 
house  wide  for  the  stranger  who  might  seek  its  shelter,  as 
with  God's  help  so  it  ever  shall  be.  It  has  yet  to  be  said  of 
the  Carvels  that  their  guests  are  hurried  away,  or  that  one,  by 
reason  of  his  worldly  goods  or  position,  shall  be  more  welcome 
than  another. 

I  take  no  shame  in  the  pride  with  which  I  write  of  my 
grandfather,  albeit  he  took  the  part  of  his  Majesty  and  Par- 
liament against  the  Colonies.  He  was  no  palavering  turn- 
coat, like  my  Uncle  Grafton,  to  cry  "  God  save  the  King ! " 
again  when  an  English  fleet  sailed  up  the  bay.  Mr.  Carvel's 
hand  was  large  and  his  heart  was  large,  and  he  was  respected 
and  even  loved  by  the  patriots  as  a  man  above  paltry  sub- 
terfuge. He  was  born  at  Carvel  Hall  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1696,  when  the  house  was,  I  am  told,  but  a  small  dwelling.  It 
was  his  father,  George  Carvel,  my  great-grand  sire,  reared  the 
present  house  in  the  year  1720,  of  brick  brought  from  England 


2  RICHARD   CARVEL 

as  ballast  for  the  empty  ships ;  he  added  on,  in  the  years  fol- 
lowing, the  wide  wings  containing  the  ball-room,  and  the 
banquet-hall,  and  the  large  library  at  the  eastern  end,  and  the 
offices.  But  it  was  my  grandfather  who  built  the  great  stables 
and  the  kennels  where  he  kept  his  beagles  and  his  fleeter 
hounds.  He  dearly  loved  the  saddle  and  the  chase,  and  taught 
me  to  love  them  too.  Many  the  sharp  winter  day  I  have  fol- 
lowed the  fox  with  him  over  two  counties,  and  lain  that  night, 
and  a  week  after,  forsooth,  at  the  plantation  of  some  kind 
friend  who  was  only  too  glad  to  receive  us.  Often,  too,  have 
we  stood  together  from  early  morning  until  dark  night,  waist 
deep,  on  the  duck  points,  I  with  a  fowling-piece  I  was  all  but 
too  young  to  carry,  and  brought  back  a  hundred  red-heads  or 
canvas-backs  in  our  bags.  He  went  with  unfailing  regularity 
to  the  races  at  Annapolis  or  Chestertown  or  Marlborough, 
often  to  see  his  own  horses  run,  where  the  coaches  of  the 
gentry  were  fifty  and  sixty  around  the  course ;  where  a  negro, 
or  a  hogshead  of  tobacco,  or  a  pipe  of  Madeira  was  often 
staked  at  a  single  throw.  Those  times,  my  children,  are  not 
ours,  and  I  thought  it  not  strange  that  Mr.  Carvel  should 
delight  in  a  good  main  between  two  cocks,  or  a  bull-baiting,  or 
a  breaking  of  heads  at  the  Chestertown  fair,  where  he  went 
to  show  his  cattle  and  fling  a  guinea  into  the  ring  for  the 
winner. 

But  it  must  not  be  thought  that  Lionel  Carvel,  your  ancestor, 
was  wholly  unlettered  because  he  was  a  sportsman,  though  it 
must  be  confessed  that  books  occupied  him  only  when  the 
weather  compelled,  or  when  on  his  back  with  the  gout.  At 
times  he  would  fain  have  me  read  to  him  as  he  lay  in  his  great 
four-post  bed  with  the  flowered  counterpane,  from  the  Spectator, 
stopping  me  now  and  anon  at  some  awakened  memory  of  his 
youth.  He  never  forgave  Mr.  Addison  for  killing  stout,  old 
Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  and  would  never  listen  to  the  butler's 
account  of  his  death.  Mr.  Carvel,  too,  had  walked  in  Gray's 
Inn  Gardens  and  met  adventure  at  Fox  Hall,  and  seen  the 
great  Marlborough  himself.  He  had  a  fondness  for  Mr.  Con- 
greve's  Comedies,  some  of  which  he  had  seen  acted ;  and  was 
partial  to  Mr.  Gay's  THvia,  which  brought  him  many  a  recol- 


LIONEL  CARVEL,   OF   CARVEL   HALL  3 

lection.  He  would  also  listen  to  Pope.  But  of  the  more  mod- 
ern poetry  I  think  Mr.  Gray's  Eleyy  pleased  him  best.  He 
would  laugh  over  Swift's  gall  and  wormwood,  and  would  never 
be  brought  by  my  mother  to  acknowledge  the  defects  in  the 
Dean's  character.  Why  ?  He  had  once  met  the  Dean  in  a 
London  drawing-room,  when  my  grandfather  was  a  young 
spark  at  Christ  Church,  Oxford.,  He  never  tired  of  relating 
that  interview.  The  hostess  was  a  very  great  lady  indeed,  and 
actually  stood  waiting  for  a  word  with  his  Reverence,  whose 
whim  it  was  rather  to  talk  to  the  young  provincial.  He  was 
a  forbidding  figure,  in  his  black  gown  and  periwig,  so  my 
grandfather  said,  with  a  piercing  blue  eye  and  shaggy  brow. 
He  made  the  mighty  to  come  to  him,  while  young  Carvel  stood 
between  laughter  and  fear  of  the  great  lady's  displeasure. 

"  I  knew  of  your  father,"  said  the  Dean,  "  before  he  went  to 
the  colonies.  He  had  done  better  at  home,  sir.  He  was  a  man 
of  parts." 

"  He  has  done  indifferently  well  in  Maryland,  sir,"  said  Mr. 
Carvel,  making  his  bow. 

"  He  hath  gained  wealth,  forsooth,"  says  the  Dean,  wrath- 
fully,  "and  might  have  had  both  wealth  and  fame  had  his 
love  for  King  James  not  turned  his  head.  I  have  heard 
much  of  the  colonies,  and  have  read  that  doggerel  '  Sot 
Weed  Factor '  which  tells  of  the  gluttonous  life  of  ease  you 
lead  in  your  own  province.  You  can  have  no  men  of  mark 
from  such  conditions,  Mr,  Carvel.  Tell  me,"  he  adds  con- 
temptuously, "is  genius  honoured  among  you?" 

"  Eaith,  it  is  honoured,  your  Reverence,"  said  my  grand- 
father, "but  never  encouraged." 

This  answer  so  pleased  the  Dean  that  he  bade  Mr.  Carvel 
dine  with  him  next  day  at  Button's  Coffee  House,  where  they 
drank  mulled  wine  and  old  sack,  for  which  young  Mr,  Carvel 
paid.  On  which  occasion  his  Reverence  endeavoured  to  per- 
suade the  young  man  to  remain  in  England,  and  even  went  so 
far  as  to  promise  his  influence  to  obtain  him  preferment.  But 
Mr.  Carvel  chose  rather  (wisely  or  not,  who  can  judge?)  to 
come  back  to  Carvel  Hall  and  to  the  lands  of  which  he  was  to 
be  master,  and  to  play  the  country  squire  and  provincial  mag- 


4  KICHAED   CAEVEL 

nate  rathar  tlian  follow  the  varying  fortunes  of  a  political 
party  at  home.  And  he  was  a  man  much  looked  up  to  in  the 
province  before  the  Revolution,  and  sat  at  the  council  board  of 
his  Excellency  the  Governor,  as  his  father  had  done  before 
him,  and  represented  the  crown  in  more  matters  than  one 
when  the  French  and  savages  were  upon  our  frontiers. 

Although  a  lover  of  good  cheer,  Mr.  Carvel  was  never  intem- 
perate. To  the  end  of  his  days  he  enjoyed  his  bottle  after 
dinner,  nay,  could  scarce  get  along  without  it ;  and  mixed  a 
punch  or  a  posset  as  well  as  any  in  our  colony.  He  chose  a 
good  London-brewed  ale  or  porter,  and  his  ships  brought 
Madeira  from  that  island  by  the  pipe,  and  sack  from  Spain 
and  Portugal,  and  red  wine  from  France  when  there  was 
peace.  And  puncheons  of  rum  from  Ja,maica  and  the  Indies 
for  his  people,  holding  that  no  gentleman  ever  drank  rum  in 
the  raw,  though  fairly  supportable  as  punch. 

Mr.  Carvel's  house  stands  in  Marlborough  Street,  a  dreary 
mansion  enough.  Praised  be  Heaven  that  those  who  inherit  it 
are  not  obliged  to  live  there  on  the  memory  of  what  was  in 
days  gone  by.  The  heavy  green  shutters  are  closed ;  the  high 
steps,  though  stoutly  built,  are  shaky  after  these  years  of  dis- 
use ;  the  host  of  faithful  servants  who  kept  its  state  are  nearly 
all  laid  side  by  side  at  Carvel  Hall.  Harvey  and  Chess  and 
Scipio  are  no  more.  The  kitchen,  whither  a  boyish  hunger  oft 
directed  my  eyes  at  twilight,  shines  not  with  the  welcoming 
gleam  of  yore.  Chess  no  longer  prepares  the  dainties  which 
astonished  Mr.  Carvel's  guests,  and  which  he  alone  could  cook. 
The  coach  still  stands  in  the  stables  where  Harvey  left  it,  a 
lumbering  relic  of  those  lumbering  times  when  methinks  there 
was  more  of  goodwill  and  less  of  haste  in  the  world.  The 
great  brass  knocker,  once  resplendent  from  Scipio's  careful 
hand,  no  longer  fantastically  reflects  the  guest  as  he  beats  his 
tattoo,  and  Mr.  Peale's  portrait  of  my  grandfather  is  gone 
from  the  dining-room  wall,  adorning,  as  you  know,  our  own 
drawing-room  at  Calvert  House. 

I  shut  my  eyes,  and  there  comes  to  me  unbidden  that  dining- 
room  in  Marlborough  Street  of  a  gray  winter's  afternoon,  when 
I  was  but  a  lad.     I  see  my  dear  grandfather  in  his  wig  and 


LIONEL   CARVEL,   OF  CARVEL  HALL  5 

silver-laced  waistcoat  and  his  blue  velvet  coat,  seated  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  and  the  precise  Scipio  has  put  down  the 
dumb-waiter  filled  with  shining  cut-glass  at  his  left  hand,  and 
his  wine  chest  at  his  right,  and  with  solemn  pomp  driven  his 
black  assistants  from  the  room.  Scipio  was  Mr.  Carvel's  but- 
ler. He  was  forbid  to  light  the  candles  after  dinner.  As  dark 
grew  on,  Mr.  Carvel  liked  the  blazing  logs  for  light,  and  pres- 
ently sets  the  decanter  on  the  corner  of  the  table  and  draws 
nearer  the  fire,  his  guests  following.  I  recall  well  how  jolly 
Governor  Sharpe,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  with  us,  was 
wont  to  display  a  comely  calf  in  silk  stocking ;  and  how  Cap- 
tain Daniel  Clapsaddle  would  spread  his  feet  with  his  toes  out, 
and  settle  his  long  pipe  between  his  teeth.  And  there  were 
besides  a  host  of  others  who  sat  at  that  fire  whose  names  have 
passed  into  Maryland's  history,  —  Whig  and  Tory  alike.  And 
I  remember  a  tall  slip  of  a  lad  who  sat  listening  by  the  deep- 
recessed  windows  on  the  street,  which  somehow  are  always 
covered  in  these  pictures  with  a  fine  rain.  Then  a  coach 
passes,  —  a  mahogany  coach  emblazoned  with  the  Manners'a 
coat  of  arms,  and  Mistress  Dorothy  and  her  mother  within. 
And  my  young  lady  gives  me  one  of  those  demure  bows  which 
ever  set  my  heart  agoing  like  a  smith's  hammer  of  a  Monday. 


CHAPTER  II 

SOME   MEMORIES    OF    CHILDHOOD 

A  TRAVELLER  who  lias  all  but  gained  the  last  height  of  tJie 
great  mist-covered  mountain  looks  back  over  the  painful  crags 
he  has  mastered  to  where  a  light  is  shining  on  the  first  easy 
slope.     That  light  is  ever  visible,  for  it  is  Youth. 

After  nigh  fourscore  and  ten  years  of  life  that  Youth  is 
nearer  to  me  now  than  many  things  which  befell  me  later.  I 
recall  as  yesterday  the  day  Captain  Clapsaddle  rode  to  the 
Hall,  his  horse  covered  with  sweat,  and  the  reluctant  tidings  of 
Captain  Jack  Carvel's  death  on  his  lips.  And  strangely  enough 
that  day  sticks  in  my  memory  as  of  delight  rather  than  sadness. 
When  my  poor  mother  had  gone  up  the  stairs  on  my  grand- 
father's arm  the  strong  soldier  took  me  on  his  knee,  and  draw- 
ing his  pistol  from  his  holster  bade  me  snap  the  lock,  which  I 
was  barely  able  to  do.  And  he  told  me  wonderful  tales  of  the 
woods  beyond  the  mountains,  and  of  the  painted  d  en  who 
cracked  them;  much  wilder  and  fiercer  they  were  than  those 
stray  Nanticokes  I  had  seen  from  time  to  time  near  Carvel 
Hall.  And  when  at  last  he  would  go  I  clung  to  him,  so  he 
swung  me  to  the  back  of  his  great  horse  Ronald,  and  I  seized 
the  bridle  in  my  small  hands.  The  noble  beast,  Hke  his 
master,  loved  a  child  well,  and  he  cantered  off  lightly  at  the 
3aptain's  whistle,  who  cried  "  bravo  "  and  ran  by  my  side  lest 
[  should  fall.  Lifting  me  off  at  length  he  kissed  me  and 
bade  me  not  to  annoy  my  mother,  the  tears  in  his  eyes  again. 
And  leaping  on  Ronald  was  away  for  the  ferry  with  never  so 
much  as  a  look  behind,  leaving  me  standing  in  the  road. 

And  from  that  time  I  saw  more  of  him  and  loved  him  better 
than  any  man  save  my  grandfather.     He  gave  me  a  pony  on 

& 


SOME   MEMOEIES   OF   CHILDHOOD  7 

my  next  birthday,  and  a  little  hogskin  saddle  made  especially 
by  Master  Wythe,  the  Loudon  saddler  in  the  town,  with  a 
silver-mounted  bridle.  Indeed,  rarely  did  the  captain  return 
from  one  of  his  long  journeys  without  something  for  me  and  a 
handsome  present  for  my  mother.  Mr.  Carvel  would  have  had 
him  make  his  home  with  us  when  we  were  in  town,  but  this  he 
would  not  do.  He  lodged  in  Church  Street,  over  against  the 
Coffee  House,  dining  at  that  hostelry  when  not  bidden  out,  or 
when  not  with  us.  He  was  much  sought  after.  I  believe 
there  was  scarce  a  man  of  note  in  any  of  the  colonies  not  num- 
bered among  his  friends.  'Twas  said  he  loved  my  mother, 
and  could  never  come  to  care  for  any  other  woman,  and  he 
promised  my  father  in  the  forests  to  look  after  her  welfare  and 
mine.     This  promise,  you  shall  see,  he  faithfully  kept. 

Though  you  have  often  heard  from  my  lips  the  story  of  my 
mother,  I  must  for  the  sake  of  those  who  are  to  come  after  you, 
set  it  down  here  as  briefly  as  I  may.  My  grandfather's  bark 
Charming  Sally,  Captain  Stanwix,  having  set  out  from  Bristol 
on  the  15th  of  April,  1736,  with  a  fair  wind  astern  an(J.  a  full 
cargo  of  English  goods  below,  near  the  Madeiras  fell  in  with 
foul  weather,  which  increased  as  she  entered  the  trades. 
Captain  Stanwix  being  a  prudent  man,  shortened  sail,  knowing 
the  harbour  of  Funchal  to  be  but  a  shallow  bight  in  the  rock, 
and  worse  than  the  open  sea  in  a  southeaster.  The  third  d^j.^  ^^ 
hove  the  Salhj  to ;  being  a  stout  craft  and  not  overladen  she 
weathered  the  gale  with  the  loss  of  a  jib,  and  was  about  mak- 
ing topsails  again  when  a  full-rigged  ship  was  descried  in  the 
offing  giving  signals  of  distress.  Night  was  coming  on  very 
fast,  and  the  sea  was  yet  running  too  high  for  a  boat  to  live, 
but  the  gallant  captain  furled  his  topsails  once  more  to  await 
the  morning.  It  could  be  seen  from  her  signals  that  the  ship 
was  living  throughout  the  night,  but  at  dawn  she  foundered 
before  the  Salb/s  boats  could  be  put  in  the  water;  one  of 
them  was  ground  to  pieces  on  the  falls.  Out  of  the  ship's 
company  and  passengers  they  picked  up  but  five  souls,  four 
sailors  and  a  little  girl  of  two  years  or  thereabouts.  The  men 
knew  nothing  more  of  her  than  that  she  had  come  aboard  at 
Brest  with  her  mother,  a  quiet,  delicate  lady  who  spoke  little 


8  RICHARD   CARVEL 

with  the  other  passengers.  The  ship  was  La  Favourite  du 
Boy,  bound  for  the  French  Indies. 

Captain  Stanwix's  wife,  who  was  a  good,  motherly  person, 
took  charge  of  the  little  orphan,  and  arriving  at  Carvel  Hall 
delivered  her  to  my  grandfather,  who  brought  her  up  as  his 
own  daughter.  You  may  be  sure  the  emblem  of  Catholicism 
found  upon  her  was  destroyed,  and  she  was  baptized  straight- 
way by  Doctor  Hilliard,  my  grandfather's  chaplain,  into  the 
Established  Church.  Her  clothes  were  of  the  finest  quality, 
and  her  little  handkerchief  had  worked  into  the  corner  of  it  a 
ooronet,  with  the  initials  "  E  de  T "  beside  it.  Around  her 
neck  was  that  locket  with  the  gold  chain  which  I  have  so  often 
shown  you,  on  one  side  of  which  is  the  miniature  of  the  young 
officer  in  his  most  Christian  Majesty's  uniform,  and  on  the 
other  a  yellow-faded  slip  of  paper  with  these  words :  "  Elle  est 
la  mienne,  quoiqu'elle  ne  porte  pas  mon  nom."  "  She  is  mine, 
although  she  does  not  bear  my  name." 

My  grandfather  wrote  to  the  owners  of  La  Favourite  du  Roy, 
and  likewise  directed  his  English  agent  to  spare  nothing  in 
the  search  for  some  clew  to  the  child's  identity.  All  that  he 
found  was  that  the  mother  had  been  entered  on  the  passenger- 
list  as  Madame  la  Farge,  of  Paris,  and  was  bound  for  Marti- 
nico.  Of  the  father  there  was  no  trace  whatever.  The  name 
"  la  Farge  "  the  agent,  Mr.  Dix,  knew  almost  to  a  certainty  was 
assumed,  and  the  coronet  on  the  handkerchief  implied  that 
the  child  was  of  noble  parentage.  The  meaning  conveyed  by 
the  paper  in  the  locket,  which  was  plainly  a  clipping  from  a 
letter,  was  such  that  Mr.  Carvel  never  showed  it  to  my  mother, 
and  would  have  destroyed  it  had  he  not  felt  that  some  day  it 
might  aid  in  solving  the  mystery.  So  he  kept  it  in  his  strong- 
box, where  he  thought  it  safe  from  prying  eyes.  But  my  Uncle 
Grafton,  ever  a  deceitful  lad,  at  length  discovered  the  key  and 
read  the  paper,  and  afterwards  used  the  knowledge  he  thus 
obtained  as  a  reproach  and  a  taunt  against  my  mother.  I  can- 
not even  now  write  his  name  without  repulsion. 

This  new  member  of  the  household  was  renamed  Elizabeth 
Carvel,  though  they  called  her  Bess,  and  of  a  course  she  was 
greatly  petted  and  spoiled,  and  ruled  all  those  about  her.     As 


SOME  MEl\rORIES   OE   CHILDHOOD  9 

she  grew  from  childhood  to  womanhood  her  beauty  became 
talked  about,  and  afterwards,  when  Mistress  Carvel  went  to 
the  Assembly,  a  dozen  young  sparks  would  crowd  about  the 
door  of  her  coach,  and  older  and  more  serious  men  lost  their 
heads  on  her  account. 

Her  devotion  to  Mr.  Carvel  was  such,  however,  that  she 
seemed  to  care  but  little  for  the  attention  she  received,  and 
she  continued  to  grace  his  board  and  entertain  his  company. 
He  fairly  worshipped  her.  It  was  his  delight  to  surprise  her 
with  presents  from  England,  with  rich  silks  and  brocades  for 
gowns,  for  he  loved  to  see  her  bravely  dressed.  The  spinet  he 
gave  her,  inlaid  with  ivory,  we  have  still.  And  he  caused  a 
chariot  to  be  made  for  her  in  London,  and  she  had  her  own 
horses  and  her  groom  in  the  Carvel  livery. 

People  said  it  was  but  natural  that  she  should  fall  in  love 
with  Captain  Jack,  my  father.  He  was  the  soldier  of  the 
family,  tall  and  straight  and  dashing.  He  differed  from  his 
S^ounger  brother  Grafton  as  day  from  night.  Captain  Jack 
tvas  open  and  generous,  though  a  little  given  to  rash  enterprise 
and  madcap  adventure.  He  loved  my  mother  from  a  child. 
His  friend  Captain  Clapsaddle  loved  her  too,  and  likewise 
Grafton,  but  it  soon  became  evident  that  she  would  marry 
Captain  Jack  or  nobody.  He  was  my  grandfather's  favourite, 
and  though  Mr.  Carvel  had  wished  him  more  serious,  his  joy 
when  Bess  blushingly  told  him  the  news  was  a  pleasure  to  see. 
And  Grafton  turned  to  revenge ;  he  went  to  Mr.  Carvel  with 
the  paper  he  had  taken  from  the  strong-box  and  claimed  that 
my  mother  was  of  spurious  birth  and  not  fit  to  marry  a  Carvel. 
He  afterwards  spread  the  story  secretly  among  the  friends  of 
the  family.  By  good  fortune  little  harm  arose  therefrom,  since 
all  who  knew  my  mother  loved  her,  and  were  willing  to  give 
her  credit  for  the  doubt;  many,  indeed,  thought  the  story 
sprang  from  Grafton's  jealousy  and  hatred.  Then  it  was  that 
Mr.  Carvel  gave  to  Grafton  the  estate  in  Kent  County  and 
bade  him  shift  for  himself,  saying  that  he  washed  his  hands 
of  a  son  who  had  acted  such  a  part. 

But  Captain  Clapsaddle  came  to  the  wedding  in  the  long 
drawing-room  at  the  Hall  and  stood  by  Captain  Jack  when  he 


10  RICHAED  (JAEVEL 

was  married,  and  kissed  the  bride  heartily.  And  my  mothei 
cried  about  this  afterwards,  and  said  that  it  grieved  her  sorely 
that  she  should  have  given  pain  to  such  a  noble  man. 

After  the  blow  which  left  her  a  widow,  she  continued  to 
keep  Mr.  Carvel's  home.  I  recall  her  well,  chiefly  as  a  sad  and 
beautiful  woman,  stately  save  when  she  kissed  me  with  passion 
and  said  that  I  bore  my  father's  look.  She  drooped  like  the 
flower  she  was,  and  one  spring  day  my  grandfather  led  me  to 
receive  her  blessing  and  to  be  folded  for  the  last  time  in  those 
dear  arms.  With  a  smile  on  her  lips  she  rose  to  heaven  to 
meet  my  father.  And  she  lies  buried  with  the  rest  of  the 
Carvels  at  the  Hall,  next  to  the  brave  captain,  her  husband. 

And  so  I  grew  up  with  my  grandfather,  spending  the  winters 
in  town  and  the  long  summers  on  the  Eastern  Shore.  I  loved 
the  country  best,  and  the  old  house  with  its  hundred  feet  of 
front  standing  on  the  gentle  slope  rising  from  the  river's  mouth, 
the  green  vines  Mr.  Carvel  had  fetched  from  England  all  but 
hiding  the  brick,  and  climbing  to  the  angled  roof;  and  the 
velvet  green  lawn  of  silvery  grass  brought  from  England,  de- 
scending gently  terrace  by  terrace  to  the  waterside,  where  lay 
our  pungies  and  barges.  There  was  then  a  tiny  pillared  porch 
framing  the  front  door,  for  our  ancestors  never  could  be  got  to 
realize  the  Maryland  climate,  and  would  rarely  build  them- 
selves wide  verandas  suitable  to  that  colony.  At  Carvel  Hall 
we  had,  to  be  sure,  the  cool  spring  house  under  the  willows  foi 
sultry  days,  with  its  pool  dished  out  for  bathing ;  and  a  trel- 
lised  arbour,  and  octagonal  summer  house  with  seats  where  my 
mother  was  wont  to  sit  sewing  while  my  grandfather  dreamed 
over  his  pipe.  On  the  lawn  stood  the  oaks  and  walnuts  and 
sycamores  which  still  cast  their  shade  over  it,  and  under  them 
of  a  summer's  evening  Mr.  Carvel  would  have  his  tea  alone ; 
save  oftentimes  when  a  barge  would  come  swinging  up  the 
river  with  ten  velvet-capped  blacks  at  the  oars,  and  one  of  our 
friendly  neighbours  —  Mr,  Lloyd  or  Mr.  Bordley,  or  perchance 
little  Mr.  Manners  —  would  stop  for  a  long  evening  with  him. 
They  seldom  came  without  their  ladies  and  children.  What 
romps  we  youngsters  had  about  the  old  place  whilst  our  elders 
talked  their  politics. 


ia^;Olni^  PW^;;^,'-* 


One  fifteenth  of  June 


SOME  MEMORIES   OF  CHILDHOOD  11 

In  childhood  the  season  which  delighted  me  the  most  was 
spring,  I  would  count  the  days  until  St.  Taminas,  which,  as 
you  know,  falls  on  the  first  of  May.  And  the  old  custom  was 
for  the  young  men  to  deck  themselves  out  as  Indian  bucks  and 
sweep  down  on  the  festivities  around  the  Maypole  on  the  town 
green,  or  at  night  to  surprise  the  guests  at  a  ball  and  force  the 
gentlemen  to  pay  down  a  shilling,  and  sometimes  a  crown 
apiece,  and  the  host  to  give  them  a  bowl  of  punch.  Then  came 
June.  My  grandfather  celebrated  his  Majesty's  birthday  in 
his  own  jolly  fashion,  and  I  had  my  own  birthday  party  on  the 
tenth.  And  on  the  fifteenth,  unless  it  chanced  upon  a  Sunday, 
my  grandfather  never  failed  to  embark  in  his  pinnace  at  the 
Annapolis  dock  for  the  Hall.  Once  seated  in  the  stern  be- 
tween Mr.  Carvel's  knees,  what  rapture  when  at  last  we  shot 
out  into  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay  and  I  thought  of  the  long 
summer  of  joy  before  me.  Scipio  was  generalissimo  of  these 
arrangements,  and  was  always  at  the  dock  punctually  at  ten  to 
hand  my  grandfather  in,  a  ceremony  in  which  he  took  great 
pride,  and  to  look  his  disapproval  should  we  be  late.  As  he 
turned  over  the  key  of  the  town  house  he  would  walk  away 
with  a  stern  dignity  to  marshal  the  other  servants  in  the 
horse-boat. 

One  fifteenth  of  June  two  children  sat  with  bated  breath  in 
the  pinnace,  —  Dorothy  Manners  and  myself.  Mistress  Dolly 
was  then  as  mischievous  a  little  baggage  as  ever  she  proved 
afterwards.  She  was  coming  to  pass  a  week  at  the  Hall, 
her  parents,  whose  place  was  next  to  ours,  having  gone  to 
Philadelphia  on  a  visit.  We  rounded  Kent  Island,  which  lay 
green  and  beautiful  in  the  flashing  waters,  and  at  length 
caught  sight  of  the  old  windmill,  with  its  great  arms  majesti- 
cally turning,  and  the  cupola  of  Carvel  House  shining  white 
among  the  trees ;  and  of  the  upper  spars  of  the  shipping,  with 
sails  neatly  furled,  lying  at  the  long  wharves,  where  the  Eng- 
lish wares  Mr.  Carvel  had  commanded  for  the  return  trips 
were  unloading.  Scarce  was  the  pinnace  brought  into  the 
wind  before  I  had  leaped  ashore  and  greeted  with  a  shout  the 
Hall  servants  drawn  up  in  a  line  on  the  green,  grinning  a  wel- 
come.    Dorothy  arid  I  scampered  over  the  grass  and  into  the 


12  ■  RICHARD   CARVEL 

cool,  wide  house,  resting  awhile  on  the  easy  sloping  steps 
within,  hand  in  hand.  And  then  away  for  that  grand  tour  of 
inspection  we  had  been  so  long  planning  together.  How  well 
I  recall  that  sunny  afternoon,  when  the  shadows  of  the  great 
oaks  were  just  beginning  to  lengthen.  Through  the  green- 
houses we  marched,  monarchs  of  all  we  surveyed,  old  Porphery, 
the  gardener,  presenting  Mistress  Dolly  with  a  crown  of  orange 
blossoms,  for  which  she  thanked  him  with  a  pretty  courtesy  her 
gOF^rness  had  taught  her.  Were  we  not  king  and  queen  re- 
turned to  our  summer  palace  ?  And  Spot  and  Silver  and  Song 
and  Knipe,  the  wolf-hound,  were  our  train,  though  not  as 
decorous  as  rigid  etiquette  demanded,  since  they  were  forever 
running  after  the  butterflies.  On  we  went  through  the  stiff, 
box-bordered  walks  of  the  garden,  past  the  weather-beaten  sun- 
dial and  the  spinning-house  and  the  smoke-house  to  the  stables. 
Here  old  Harvey,  who  had  taught  me  to  ride  Captain  Daniel's 
pony,  is  equerry,  and  young  Harvey  our  personal  attendant ; 
old  Harvey  smiles  as  we  go  in  and  out  of  the  stalls  rubbing 
the  noses  of  our  trusted  friends,  and  gives  a  gruff  but  kindly 
warning  as  to  Cassandra's  heels.  He  recalls  my  father  at  the 
same  age. 

Jonas  Tree,  the  carpenter,  sits  sunning  himself  on  his  bench 
before  the  shop,  but  mysteriously  disappears  when  he  sees  us, 
and  returns  presently  with  a  little  ship  he  has  fashioned  for 
me  that  winter,  all  complete  Avith  spars  and  sails,  for  Jonas 
was  a  shipwright  on  the  Severn  in  the  old  country  before  he 
came  as  a  king's  passenger  to  the  new.  Dolly  and  I  are  off 
directly  to  the  backwaters  of  the  river,  where  the  new  boat  is 
launched  with  due  ceremony  as  the  Conqueror,  his  Majesty's 
latest  ship-of-the-line.  Jonas  himself  trims  her  sails,  and  she 
sets  off  right  gallantly  across  the  shallows,  heeling  to  the 
breeze  for  all  the  world  like  a  real  man-o'-war.  Then  the  King 
would  fain  cruise  at  once  against  the  French,  but  Queen  Doro- 
thy must  needs  go  with  him.  His  Majesty  points  out  that 
when  fighting  is  to  be  done,  a  ship  of  war  is  no  place  for  a 
woman,  whereat  her  Majesty  stamps  her  little  foot  and  throws 
her  crown  of  orange  blossoms  from  her,  and  starts  off  for  the 
milk-house  in  high  dudgeon,  vowing  she  will  play  no  more. 


SOME   MEMORIES   OF   CHILDHOOD  13 

And  it  ends  as  it  ever  will  end,  be  the  children  young  or  old, 
for  the  French  pass  from  his  Majesty's  mind  and  he  runs  after 
his  consort  to  implore  forgiveness,  leaving  poor  Jonas  to  take 
care  of  the  Conqueror. 

How  short  those  summer  days !  All  too  short  for  the  girl 
and  boy  who  had  so  much  to  do  in  them.  The  sun  rising  over 
the  forest  often  found  us  peeping  through  the  blinds,  and  when 
he  sank  into  the  bay  at  night  we  were  still  running,  tired  but 
happy,  and  begging  patient  Hester  for  half  an  hour  more. 

"Lawd,  Marse  Dick,"  I  can  hear  her  say,  "you  an'  Miss 
Dolly's  been  on  yo'  feet  since  de  dawn.     And  so's  I,  honey." 

And  so  we  had.  We  would  spend  whole  days  on  the  wharves, 
all  bustle  and  excitement,  sometimes  seated  on  the  capstan  of 
the  Sprightly  Bess  or  perched  in  the  nettings  of  the  Oriole,  of 
which  ship  old  Stanwix  was  now  captain.  He  liad  grown  gray 
in  Mr.  Carvel's  service,  and  good  Mrs.  Stanwix  was  long  since 
dead.  Often  we  would  mount  together  on  the  little  horse 
Captain  Daniel  had  given  me,  Dorothy  on  a  pillion  behind, 
to  go  with  my  grandfather  to  inspect  the  farm.  Mr.  Starkie, 
the  overseer,  would  ride  beside  us,  his  fowling-piece  slung 
over  his  shoulder  and  his  holster  on  his  hip ;  a  kind  man 
and  capable,  and  unlike  Mr.  Evans,  my  Uncle  Grafton's  over- 
seer, was  seldom  known  to  use  his  firearms  or  the  rawhide 
slung  across  his  saddle.  The  negroes  in  their  linsey-woolsey 
iackets  and  checked  trousers  would  stand  among  the  hills 
grinning  at  us  children  as  we  passed;  and  there  was  not  one 
of  them,  nor  of  the  white  servants  for  that  matter,  that  I  could 
not  call  by  name. 

And  all  this  time  I  was  busily  wooing  Mistress  Dolly ;  but 
she,  little  minx,  would  give  me  no  satisfaction.  I  see  her 
standing  among  the  strawberries,  her  black  hair  waving  in  the 
wind,  and  her  red  lips  redder  still  from  the  stain.  And  the 
sound  of  her  childish  voice  comes  back  to  me  now  after  all 
these  years.     And  this  was  my  first  proposal :  — 

"  Dorothy,  when  you  grow  up  and  I  groAV  up,  you  will  marry 
me,  and  I  shall  give  you  all  these  strawberries." 

"  I  will  marry  none  but  a  soldier,"  says  she,  "  and  a  great 
man." 


14  EICHAED  CAKVEL 

"  Then  will  I  be  a  soldier,"  I  cried,  "  and  greater  than  the 
Governor  himself."     And  I  believed  it. 

"  Papa  says  I  shall  marry  an  earl,"  retorts  Dorothy,  with  a 
toss  of  her  pretty  head. 

"There  are  no  earls  among  us,"  I  exclaimed  hotly,  for  even 
then  I  had  some  of  that  sturdy  republican  spirit  which  prevailed 
among  the  younger  generation.  "  Our  earls  are  those  who  have 
made  their  own  way,  like  my  grandfather."  For  I  had  lately 
heard  Captain  Clapsaddle  say  this  and  much  more  on  the  sub- 
ject.    But  Dorothy  turned  up  her  nose. 

"I  shall  go  home  when  I  am  eighteen,"  she  said,  "and  I 
shall  meet  his  Majesty  the  King." 

And  to  such  an  argument  I  found  no  logical  answer. 

Mr.  Marmaduke  Manners  and  his  lady  came  to  fetch  Dorothy 
home.  He  was  a  foppish  little  gentleman  who  thought  more 
of  the  cut  of  his  waistcoat  than  of  the  affairs  of  the  province, 
and  would  rather  have  been  bidden  to  lead  the  assembly  bah 
than  to  sit  in  council  with  his  Excellency  the  Governor.  My 
first  recollection  of  him  is  of  contempt.  He  must  needs  have 
his  morning  punch  just  so,  and  complained  whiningly  of  Scipio 
if  some  perchance  were  spilled  on  the  glass.  He  must  needs 
be  taken  abroad  in  a  chair  when  it  rained.  And  though  in 
the  course  of  a  summer  he  was  often  at  Carvel  Hall  he  never 
tarried  long,  and  came  to  see  Mr.  Carvel's  guests  rather  than 
Mr.  Carvel.  He  had  little  in  common  with  my  grandfather, 
whose  chief  business  and  pleasure  was  to  promote  industry  on 
his  farm.  Mr.  Marmaduke  was  wont  to  rise  at  noon,  and  knew 
not  wheat  from  barley,  or  good  leaf  from  bad ;  his  hands  he 
kept  like  a  lady's,  rendering  them  almost  useless  by  the  long 
lace  on  the  sleeves,  and  his  chief  pastime  was  card-playing. 
It  was  but  reasonable  therefore,  when  the  troubles  with  the 
mother  country  began,  that  he  chose  the  King's  side  alike  from 
indolence  and  contempt  for  things  republican. 

Of  Mrs.  Manners  I  shall  say  more  by  and  by. 

I  took  a  mischievous  delight  in  giving  Mr.  Manners  every 
annoyance  my  boyish  fancy  could  conceive.  The  evening  of 
his  arrival  he  and  Mr.  Carvel  set  out  for  a  stroll  about  the 
house,  Mr.  Marmaduke  mincing  his  steps,  for  it  had  rained  that 


SOME  MEMOKIES  OF  CHILDHOOD  15 

■jnorning.  And  presently  they  came  upon  the  windmill  with 
its  long  arms  moving  lazily  in  the  liglit  breeze,  near  touching 
the  ground  as  they  passed,  for  the  mill  was  built  in  the  Dutch 
fashion.  I  know  not  what  moved  me,  but  hearing  Mr.  Manners 
carelessly  humming  a  minuet  while  my  grandfather  explained 
the  usefulness  of  the  mill,  I  seized  hold  of  one  of  the  long  arms 
as  it  swung  by,  and  before  the  gentlemen  could  prevent  was 
carried  slowly  upwards.  Dorothy  screamed,  and  her  father 
stood  stock  still  with  amazement  and  fear,  Mr.  Carvel  being 
the  only  one  who  kept  his  presence  of  mind.  "  Hold  on  tight, 
Richard!"  I  heard  him  cry.  It  was  dizzy  riding,  though  the 
motion  was  not  great,  and  before  I  had  reached  the  right  angle 
I  regretted  my  rashness.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Bay  with 
the  red  sun  on  it,  and  as  I  turned  saw  far  below  me  the  white 
figure  of  Ivie  Rawlinson,  the  Scotch  miller,  who  had  run  out. 
"  0  haith !  "  he  shouted.  "  Hand  fast,  Mr.  Richard ! "  And  so 
I  clung  tightly  and  came  down  without  much  inconvenience, 
though  indifferently  glad  to  feel  the  ground  again. 

Mr.  Marmaduke,  as  I  expected,  was  in  a  great  temper,  and 
swore  he  had  not  had  such  a  fright  for  years.  He  looked  for 
Mr.  Carvel  to  cane  me  stoutly.  But  Ivie  laughed  heartily,  and 
said :  "  I  wad  ye'll  gang  far  for  anither  laddie  wi'  the  spunk, 
Mr.  Manners,"  and  with  a  sly  look  at  my  grandfather,  "  Ilka 
day  we  hae  some  sic  whigmeleery." 

I  think  Mr.  Carvel  was  not  ill  pleased  with  the  feat,  or  with 
Mr.  Marmaduke's  way  of  taking  it.  For  afterwards  I  over- 
heard him  telling  the  story  to  Colonel  Lloyd,  and  both  gentle- 
men laughing  over  Mr.  Manners's  discomfiture. 


CHAPTER  III 

CAUGHT   BY   THE   TIDE 

It  is  a  nigh  impossible  task  on  the  memory  to  trace  those 
influences  by  which  a  lad  is  led  to  form  his  life's  opinions, 
and  for  my  part  I  hold  that  such  things  are  bred  into  the  bone, 
and  that  events  only  serve  to  strengthen  them.  In  this  way 
only  can  I  account  for  my  bitterness,  at  a  very  early  age 
against  that  King  whom  my  seeming  environment  should  have 
made  me  love.  For  my  grandfather  was  as  stanch  a  royalist 
as  ever  held  a  cup  to  majesty's  health.  And  children  are  most 
apt  before  they  can  reason  for  themselves  to  take  the  note 
from  those  of  their  elders  who  surround  them.  It  is  true  that 
many  of  Mr.  Carvel's  guests  were  of  the  opposite  persuasion 
from  him :  Mr.  Chase  and  Mr.  Carroll,  Mr.  Lloyd  and  Mr. 
Bordley,  and  many  others,  including  our  friend  Captain  Clap- 
'  saddle.  And  these  gentlemen  were  frequently  in  argument 
but  political  discussion  is  Greek  to  a  lad. 

Mr.  Carvel,  as  I  have  said,  was  most  of  his  life  a  member  of 
the  Council,  a  man  from  whom  both  Governor  Sharpe  and 
Governor  Eden  were  glad  to  take  advice  because  of  his  tem- 
perate judgment  and  deep  knoAvledge  of  the  people  of  the 
province.  At  times,  when  his  Council  was  scattered.  Gov- 
ernor Sharpe  would  consult  Mr.  Carvel  alone,  and  often  have 
I  known  my  grandfather  to  embark  in  haste  from  the  Hall  in 
response  to  a  call  from  his  Excellency. 

'Twas  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  in  the  year  1765,  made 
memorable  by  the  Stamp  Act,  that  I  first  came  in  touch  with 
the  deep-set  feelings  of  the  times  then  beginning,  and  I  count 
from  that  year  the  awakening  of  the  sympathy  which  deter- 
mined my  career.     One  sultry  day  I  was  wading  in  the  shal- 

16 


CAUGHT   BY   THE   TIDE  17 

lows  after  crabs,  when  the  Governor's  messenger  came  drifting 
in,  all  impatience  at  the  lack  of  wind.  He  ran  to  the  house  to 
seek  Mr.  Carvel,  and  I  after  him,  with  all  a  boy's  curiosity,  as 
fast  as  my  small  legs  would  carry  me.  My  grandfather  hur- 
ried out  to  order  his  barge  to  be  got  ready  at  once,  so  that  I 
knew  something  important  was  at  hand.  At  first  he  refused 
me  permission  to  go,  but  afterwards  relented,  and  about  eleven 
in  the  morning  we  pulled  away  strongly,  the  ten  blacks  bending 
to  the  oars  as  if  their  lives  were  at  stake. 

A  wind  arose  before  we  sighted  Greensbury  Point,  and  I  saw 
a  bark  sailing  in,  but  thought  nothing  of  this  until  Mr.  Carvel, 
who  had  been  silent  and  preoccupied,  called  for  his  glass  and 
swept  her  decks.  She  soon  shortened  sail,  and  went  so  lei- 
surely that  presently  our  light  barge  drew  alongside,  and  I 
perceived  Mr.  Zachariah  Hood,  a  merchant  of  the  town,  return- 
ing from  London,  hanging  over  her  rail.  Mr.  Hood  was  very 
pale  in  spite  of  his  sea-voyage;  he  flung  up  his  cap  at  our 
boat,  but  Mr.  Carvel's  salute  in  return  was  colder  than  he 
looked  for.  As  we  came  in  view  of  the  dock,  a  fine  rain  was 
setting  in,  and  to  my  astonishment  I  beheld  such  a  mass  of 
people  assembled  as  I  had  never  seen,  and  scarce  standing- 
room  on  the  wharves.  We  were  to  have  gone  to  the  Governor's 
wharf  in  the  Severn,  but  my  grandfather  changed  his  intention 
at  once.  Many  of  the  crowd  greeted  him  as  we  drew  near 
them,  and,  having  landed,  respectfully  made  room  for  him  to 
pass  through.  I  followed  him  a-tremble  with  excitement  and 
delight  over  such  an  unwonted  experience.  We  had  barely 
gone  ten  paces,  however,  before  Mr.  Carvel  stopped  abreast  of 
Mr.  Claude,  mine  host  of  the  Coffee  House,  who  cried :  — 

"Hast  seen  his  Majesty's  newest  representative,  Mr.  Car- 
vel ?  " 

"  Mr.  Hood  is  on  board  the  bark,  sir,"  replied  my  grand- 
father.    "I  take  it  you  mean  Mr.  Hood." 

"  Ay,  that  I  do ;  Mr.  Zachariah  Hood,  come  to  lick  stamps 
for  his  brother-colonists." 

"After  licking  his  Majesty's  boots,"  says  a  wag  near  by, 
which  brings  a  laugh  from  those  about  us.     I  remembered  that 
I  had  heard  some  talk  as  to  how  Mr.  Hood  had  sought  and 
o 


18  RICHAED   CARVEL 

obtained  from  King  George  the  office  of  Stamp  Distributor 
for  the  province.  Now,  my  grandfather,  God  rest  him !  was 
as  doughty  an  old  gentleman  as  might  well  be,  and  would  not 
listen  without  protest  to  remarks  which  bordered  sedition.  He 
had  little  fear  of  things  below,  and  none  of  a  mob. 

"  My  masters."  he  shouted,  with  a  flourish  of  his  stick,  so 
stoutly  that  people  fell  back  from  him,  "know  that  ye  are 
met  against  the  law,  and  endanger  the  peace  of  his  Lordship's 
government." 

"  Good  enough,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  Claude,  who  seemed  to  be 
the  spokesman.  "  But  how  if  we  are  stamped  against  law  a^nd 
his  Lordship's  government?  How  then,  sir?  Your  honour 
well  knows  we  have  naught  against  either,  and  are  as  peaceful 
a  mob  as  ever  assembled." 

This  brought  on  a  great  laugh,  and  they  shouted  from  all 
sides,  "  How  then,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  "  And  my  grandfather,  per- 
ceiving that  he  would  lose  dignity  by  argument,  and  having 
done  his  duty  by  a  protest,  was  wisely  content  with  that. 
They  opened  wider  the  lane  for  him  to  pass  through,  and  he 
made  his  way,  erect  and  somewhat  defiant,  to  Mr.  Pryse's,  the 
coachmaker  opposite,  holding  me  by  the  hand.  The  second 
storey  of  Pryse's  shop  had  a  little  balcony  standing  out  in 
front,  and  here  we  established  ourselves,  that  we  might  watch 
what  was  going  forward. 

The  crowd  below  grew  strangely  silent  as  the  bark  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  until  Mr.  Hood  showed  himself  on  the 
poop,  when  there  rose  a  storm  of  hisses,  mingled  with  shouts 
of  derision.  "How  goes  it  at  St.  James,  Mr.  Hood?"  and 
"  Have  you  tasted  his  Majesty's  barley  ?  "  And  some  asked 
him  if  he  was  come  as  their  member  of  Parliament.  Mr.  Hood 
dropped  a  bow,  though  what  he  said  was  drowned.  The  bark 
came  in  prettily  enough,  men  in  the  crowd  even  catching  her 
Anes  and  making  them  fast  to  the  piles.  A  gang-plank  was 
thrown  over.  "Come  out,  Mr.  Hood,"  they  cried;  "we  are 
here  to  do  you  honour,  and  to  welcome  you  home  again." 
There  were  leather  breeches  with  staves  a-plenty  around  that 
plank,  and  faces  that  meant  no  trifling.  "  McISTeir,  the  rogue," 
exclaimed  Mr,  Carvel,  "and  that  hulk  of  a  tanner,  Brown. 


CAUGHT   BY   THE   TIDE  19 

And  I  would  know  those  smith's  shoulders  in  a  thousand." 
"Right,  sir,"  says  Fryse,  "and  'twill  serve  them  proper  when 
the  King's  troops  come  among  them  for  quartering."  The 
gentry  being  Pryse's  patrons,  he  shaped  his  politics  according 
to  the  company  he  was  in :  he  could  ill  be  expected  to  seize 
one  of  his  own  ash  spokes  and  join  the  resistance.  Just  then 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Captain  Clapsaddle  on  the  skirts  of  the 
crowd,  and  with  him  Mr.  Swain  and  some  of  the  dissenting 
gentry.  And  my  boyish  wrath  burst  forth  against  that  man 
smirking  and  smiling  on  the  decks  of  the  bark,  so  that  I  shouted 
shrilly :  "  Mr.  Hood  will  be  cudgelled  and  tarred  as  he  de- 
serves," and  shook  my  little  fist  at  him,  so  that  many  under  us 
laughed  and  cheered  me.  Mr.  Carvel  pushed  me  back  into  the 
window  and  out  of  their  sight. 

The  crew  of  the  bark  had  assembled  on  the  quarterdeck, 
stout  English  tars  every  man  of  them,  armed  with  pikes  and 
belaying-pins ;  and  at  a  word  from  the  mate  they  rushed  in 
a  body  over  the  plank.  Some  were  thrust  off  into  the  water, 
but  so  fierce  was  their  onset  that  others  gained  the  wharf, 
laying  sharply  about  them  in  all  directions,  but  getting  full  as 
many  knocks  as  they  gave.  For  a  space  there  was  a  very 
bedlam  of  cries  and  broken  heads,  those  behind  in  the  mob 
surging  forward  to  reach  the  scrimmage,  forcing  their  own 
comrades  over  the  edge.  McNeir  had  his  thigh  broken  by  a 
pike,  and  was  dragged  back  after  the  first  rush  was  over;  and 
the  mate  of  the  bark  Avas  near  to  drowning,  being  rescued, 
indeed,  by  Graham,  the  tanner.  Mr.  Hood  stood  white  in  the 
gangway,  dodging  a  missile  now  and  then,  waiting  his  chance, 
which  never  came.  For  many  of  the  sailors  were  captured 
and  carried  bodily  to  the  "  Rose  and  Crown  "  and  the  "  Three 
Blue  Balls,"  where  they  became  properly  drunk  on  Jamaica 
rum ;  others  made  good  their  escape  on  board.  And  at  length 
the  bark  cast  off  again,  amidst  jeers  and  threats,  and  one-third 
of  her  crew  missing,  and  drifted  slowly  back  to  the  roads. 

From  the  dock,  after  all  was  quiet,  Mr.  Carvel  stepped  into 
his  barge  and  rowed  to  the  Governor's,  whose  house  was 
prettily  situated  near  Hanover  Street,  with  ground  running 
down  to  the  Severn.     His  Excellency  appeared  much  relieved 


20  RICHAED  CARVEL 

to  see  my  grandfather ;  Mr.  Daniel  Dulany  was  with  him,  and 
the  three  gentlemen  at  once  repaired  to  the  Governor's  writing- 
closet  for  consultation. 

Mr.  Carvel's  town  house  being  closed,  we  stopped  with  his 
Excellency.  There  were,  indeed,  scarce  any  of  the  gentry  in 
town  at  that  season  save  a  few  of  the  Whig  persuasion.  Excite- 
ment ran  very  high ;  farmers  flocked  in  every  day  from  the 
country  round  about  to  take  part  in  the  demonstration  against 
the  Act.  Mr.  Hood's  storehouse  was  burned  to  the  ground. 
Mr.  Hood  getting  ashore  by  stealth,  came,  however,  unmolested 
to  Annapolis  and  offered  at  a  low  price  the  goods  he  had 
brought  out  in  the  bark,  thinking  thus  to  propitiate  his  ene- 
mies.    This  step  but  inflamed  them  the  more. 

My  grandfather  having  much  business  to  look  to,  I  was  left 
to  my  own  devices,  and  the  devices  of  an  impetuous  lad  of 
twelve  are  not  always  such  as  his  elders  would  choose  for  him. 
I  was  continually  burning  with  a  desire  to  see  what  was  pro- 
ceeding in  the  town,  and  hearing  one  day  a  great  clamour  and 
tolling  of  bells,  I  ran  out  of  the  Governor's  gate  and  down 
Northwest  Street  to  the  Circle,  where  a  strange  sight  met 
my  eyes.  A  crowd  like  that  I  had  seen  on  the  dock  had  col- 
lected there,  Mr.  Swain  and  Mr.  Hammond  and  other  barristers 
holding  them  in  check.  Mounted  on  a  one-horse  cart  was 
a  stuffed  figure  of  the  detested  Mr.  Hood.  INIr.  Hammond 
made  a  speech,  but  for  the  laughter  and  cheering  I  could  not 
catch  a  word  of  it.  I  pushed  through  the  people,  as  a  boy 
will,  diving  between  legs  to  get  a  better  view,  when  I  felt  a 
hand  upon  my  shoulder,  bringing  me  up  suddenly.  And  I 
recognized  Mr.  Matthias  Tilghman^  and  with  him  was  Mr. 
Samuel  Chase. 

"  Does  your  grandfather  know  you  are  here,  lad  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Tilghman. 

I  paused  a  moment  for  breath  before  I  answered :  "  He 
attended  the  rally  at  the  dock  himself,  sir,  and  I  believe 
enjoyed  it." 

Both  gentlemen  smiled,  and  Mr.  Chase  remarked  that  if  all 
the  other  party  were  like  Mr.  Carvel,  troubles  would  soon  cease. 
"  I  mean  not  Grafton/'  says  he,  with  a  wink  at  Mr.  Tilghman. 


CAUGHT   BY   THE   TIDE  21 

"I'll  warrant,  Richard,  your  uncle  would  be  but  ill  pleased  to 
see  you  in  such  company." 

"Nay,  sir,"  I  replied,  for  I  never  feared  to  speak  up,  "there 
are  you  wrong.     I  think  it  would  please  my  uncle  mightily." 

"  The  lad  hath  indifferent  penetration,"  said  Mr.  Tilghman, 
laughing,  and  adding  more  soberly :  "  If  you  never  do  worse 
than  this,  Richard,  Maryland  may  some  day  be  proud  of  you." 

Mr.  Hammond  having  finished  his  3peech,  a  paper  was  placed 
in  the  hand  of  the  effigy,  and  the  crowd  bore  it  shouting 
and  singing  to  the  hill,  where  Mr.  John  Shaw,  the  city 
carpenter,  had  made  a  gibbet.  There  nine  and  thirty  lashes 
were  bestowed  on  the  unfortunate  image,  the  people  crying  out 
that  this  was  the  Mosaic  Law.  And  I  cried  as  loud  as  any, 
though  I  knew  not  the  meaning  of  the  words.  They  hung 
Mr.  Hood  to  the  gibbet  and  set  fire  to  a  tar  barrel  under  him, 
and  so  left  him. 

The  town  wore  a  holiday  look  that  day,  and  I  was  loth  to 
go  back  to  the  Governor's  house.  Good  patriots'  shops  were 
closed,  their  owners  parading  as  on  Sunday  in  their  best,  paus- 
ing in  knots  at  every  corner  to  discuss  the  affair  with  which 
the  town  simmered.  I  encountered  old  Farris,  the  clockmaker, 
in  hfs  brown  coat  besprinkled  behind  with  powder  from  his 
queue.  "How  now,  Master  Richard?"  says  he,  merrily. 
<'  This  is  no  place  for  young  gentlemen  of  your  persuasion." 

Next  I  came  upon  young  Dr.  Courtenay,  the  wit  of  the 
Tuesday  Club,  of  whom  I  shall  have  more  to  say  hereafter. 
He  was  taking  the  air  with  Mr.  James  Eotheringay,  Will's 
eldest  brother,  but  lately  back  from  Oxford  and  the  Temple. 
The  doctor  wore  five-pound  ruffles  and  a  ten-pound  wig,  was 
dressed  in  cherry  silk,  and  carried  a  long,  clouded  cane.  His 
hat  had  the  latest  cock,  for  he  was  our  macaroni  of  Annapolis. 
"  Egad,  Richard,"  he  cries,  "  you  are  the  only  other  loyalist 
I  have  seen  abroad  to-day." 

I  remember  swelling  with  indignation  at  the  affront.  "I 
call  them  Tories,  sir,"  I  flashed  back,  "  and  I  am  none  such." 
"  No  Tory ! "  says  he,  nudging  Mr.  Fotheringay,  who  was  with 
him;  "I  had  as  lief  believe  your  grandfather  hated  King 
George."     I  astonished  them  both  by  retorting  that  Mr.  Carvel 


22  EICHARD   CARVEL 

might  think  as  he  pleased,  that  being  every  man's  right ;  but 
that  I  chose  to  be  a  Whig.  "  I  would  tell  you  as  a  friend, 
young  man,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  that  thy  politics  are  not  over 
politic."  And  they  left  me  puzzling,  laughing  with  much 
relish  over  some  catch  in  the  doctor's  words.  As  for  me,  I 
could  perceive  no  humour  in  them. 

It  was  now  near  six  of  the  clock,  out  instead  of  going  direct 
to  the  Governor's  I  made  my  way  down  Church  Street  toward 
the  water.  Near  the  dock  i  saw  many  people  gathered  in  the 
street  in  front  of  the  "  Ship "  tavern,  a  time-honoured  resort 
much  patronized  by  sailors.  My  curiosity  led  me  to  halt 
there  also.  The  *'  Ship  "  had  stood  in  that  place  nigh  on  to 
three-score  years,  it  was  said.  Its  latticed  windows  were 
swung  open,  and  from  within  came  snatches  of  "  Tom  Bow- 
ling," "Rule  Britannia,"  and  many  songs  scarce  fit  for  a 
child  to  hear.  Now  and  anon  some  one  in  the  street  would 
throw  back  a  taunt  to  these  British  sentiments,  which  went 
unheeded.  "They  be  drunk  as  lords,"  said  Weld,  the  butcher's 
apprentice,  "and  when  they  comes  out  we'll  hev  more  than 
one  broken  head  in  this  street."  The  songs  continuing,  he 
cried  again,  "  Come  out,  d — n  ye."  Weld  had  had  more  than 
his  own  portion  of  rum  that  day.  Spying  me  seated  (!fii  the 
gate-post  opposite,  he  shouted:  "So  ho.  Master  Carvel,  the 
streets  are  not  for  his  Majesty's  supporters  to-day."  Other 
artisans  who  were  there  bade  him  leave  me  in  peace,  saying 
that  my  grandfather  was  a  good  friend  of  the  people.  The 
matter  might  have  ended  there  had  I  been  older  and  wiser, 
but  the  excitement  of  the  day  had  gone  to  my  head  like  wine. 
"  I  am  as  stout  a  patriot  as  you.  Weld,"  I  shouted  back,  and 
flushed  at  the  cheering  that  followed.  And  Weld  ran  up  to 
me,  and  though  I  was  a  good  piece  of  a  lad,  swung  me  lightly 
onto  his  shoulder.  "Harkee,  Master  Richard,"  he  said,  "I 
can  get  nothing  out  of  the  poltroons  by  shouting.  Do  you  go 
in  and  say  that  Weld  will  fight  any  mother's  son  of  them 
single-handed." 

"  For  shame,  to  send  a  lad  into  a  tavern,"  said  old  Robbins, 
who  had  known  my  grandfather  these  many  years.  But  the 
desire  for  a  row  was  so  great  among  the  rest  that  they  silenced 


CAUGHT   BY  THE  TIDE  23 

him.  Weld  set  me  down,  and  I,  nothing  loth,  ran  through  the 
open  door. 

I  had  never  before  been  in  the  "  Ship,"  nor,  indeed,  in  any 
tavern  save  that  of  Master  Dingley,  near  Carvel  Hall.  The 
"  Ship "  was  a  bare  place  enough,  with  low  black  beams  and 
sanded  floor,  and  rough  tables  and  chairs  set  about.  On  that 
September  evening  it  was  stifling  hot ;  and  the  odours  from  the 
men,  and  the  t^pilled  rum  and  tobacco  smoke,  well-nigh  over- 
powered me.  The  room  was  filled  with  a  motley  gang  of 
sailors,  mostly  from  the  bark  Mr.  Hcod  had  come  on,  and 
some  from  H.M.J-.-.  Ilmvk,  then  lying  in  the  harbour. 

A  strapping  man-o'-war's-man  sat  near  the  door,  his  jacket 
thrown  open  and  his  great  chest  bared,  and  when  he  perceived 
me  he  was  in  the  act  of  proposing  a  catch ;  'twas  "  The  Great 
Bell  o'  Lincoln,"  I  believe ;  and  he  held  a  brimming  cup  of 
bumbo  in  his  hand.  In  his  surprise  he  set  it  awkwardly  down 
again,  thereby  spilling  full  half  of  it.  "Avast,"  says  he,  with 
an  oath,  "  what's  this  come  among  us  ? "  and  he  looked  me 
over  with  a  comical  eye.  "A  d — d  provincial,"  he  went  on 
scornfully,  "but  a  gentleman's  son,  or  Jack  Ball's  a  liar." 
Whereupon  his  companions  rcoe  from  their  seats  and  crowded 
round  me.  More  than  one  reeled  against  me.  And  though  I 
was  somewhat  awed  by  the  strangeness  of  that  dark,  ill-smell- 
ing room,  and  by  the  rough  company  in  which  I  found  myself, 
I  held  my  ground,  and  spoke  up  as  strongly  as  I  might. 

"Weld,  the  butcher's  apprentice,  bids  me  say  he  will  fight 
any  man  among  you  single-handed." 

"So  ho,  my  little  gamecock,  my  little  schooner  with  a 
swivel,"  said  he  who  had  called  himself  Jack  Ball,  "  and  where 
can  this  valiant  butcher  be  found  ?  " 

"He  waits  in  the  street,"  I  answered  more  boldly. 

"  Split  me  fore  and  aft  if  he  waits  long,"  said  Jack,  drainl-ag 
the  rest  of  his  rum.  And  picking  me  up  as  easily  as  did  Weld 
he  rushed  out  of  the  door,  and  after  him  as  many  of  his  mates 
as  could  walk  or  stagger  thither. 

In  the  meantime  the  news  had  got  abroad  in  the  street  that 
the  butcher's  apprentice  was  to  fight  one  of  the  Hciwlc's  men, 
and  when  I  emerged  from  the  tavern  the  crowd  had  doubled^ 


24  RICHAED  CAEVEL 

and  people  were  running  hither  in  all  haste  from  both  direc- 
tions. But  that  fight  was  never  to  be.  Big  Jack  Ball  had 
scarce  set  me  down  and  shouted  a  loud  defiance,  shaking  his 
fist  at  Weld,  who  stood  out  opposite,  when  a  soldierly  man  on 
a  great  horse  turned  the  corner  and  wheeled  between  the  com- 
batants. I  knew  at  a  glance  it  was  Captain  Clapsaddle,  and 
guiltily  wished  myself  at  the  Governor's.  The  townspeople 
knew  him  likewise,  and  many  were  slinking  away  even  before 
he  spoke,  as  his  charger  stood  pawing  the  ground. 

"  What's  this  I  hear,  you  villain,"  said  he  to  Weld,  in  his 
deep,  ringing  voice,  "  that  you  have  not  only  provoked  a  row 
with  one  of  the  King's  sailors,  but  have  dared  send  a  child 
into  that  tavern  with  your  fool's  message  ?  " 

Weld  was  awkward  and  sullen  enough,  and  no  words  came 
to  him. 

^^  Your  tongue,  you  sot,"  the  captain  went  on,  drawing  his 
sword  in  his  anger,  "  is  it  true  you  have  made  use  of  a  gen- 
tleman's son  for  your  low  purposes  ?  " 

But  Weld  was  still  silent,  and  not  a  sound  came  from  either 
side  until  old  Eobbins  spoke  up. 

"  There  are  many  here  can  say  I  warned  him,  your  honour," 
he  said. 

"  Warned  him ! "  cried  the  captain.  "  Mr.  Carvel  has  just 
given  you  twenty  pounds  for  your  wife,  and  you  warned 
him ! " 

Eobbins  said  no  more;  and  the  butcher's  apprentice,  hang- 
ing his  head,  as  well  he  might  before  the  captain,  I  was  much 
moved  to  pity  for  him,  seeing  that  my  forwardness  had  in 
some  sense  led  him  on. 

"'Twas  in  truth  my  fault,  captain,"  I  cried  out.  The 
captain  looked  at  me,  and  said  nothing.  After  that  the 
butcher  made  bold  to  take  up  his  man's  defence. 

"Master  Carvel  was  indeed  somewhat  to  blame,  sii',"  said 
he,  "  and  Weid  is  in  liquor." 

"  And  I'll  have  him  to  pay  for  his  drunkenness,"  said  Cap- 
tain Clapsaddle,  hotly.  *•'  Get  to  your  homes,"  he  cried.  "  Ye 
are  a  lot  of  idle  hounds,  who  would  make  liberty  the  excuse 
for  riot."     He  waved  his  sword  at  the  pack  of  them,  and  they 


CAUGHT   BY  THE   TIDE  25 

scattered  like  sheep  until  none  but  Weld  was  left.  "  And  as 
for  you,  Weld,"  he  continued,  "  you'll  rue  this  pretty  business, 
or  Daniel  Clapsaddle  never  punished  a  cut-throat."  And 
turning  to  Jack  Ball,  he  bade  him  lift  me  to  the  saddle,  and  so 
I  rode  with  him  to  the  Governor's  without  a  word ;  for  I  knew 
better  than  to  talk  when  he  was  in  that  mood. 

The  captain  was  made  to  tarry  and  sup  with  his  Excellency 
and  my  grandfather,  and  I  sat  perforce  a  fourth  at  the  table, 
scarce  daring  to  conjecture  as  to  the  outcome  of  my  escapade 
But  as  luck  would  have  it,  the  Governor  had  been  that  day  in 
such  worry  and  perplexity,  and  my  grandfather  also,  that  my 
absence  had  passed  unnoticed.  Nor  did  my  good  friend  the 
captain  utter  a  word  to  them  of  what  he  knew.  But  after- 
wards he  called  me  to  him  and  set  me  upon  his  knee.  How 
big,  and  kind,  and  strong  he  was,  and  how  I  loved  his  bluff 
soldier's  face  and  blunt  ways.  And  when  at  last  he  spoke,  his 
words  burnt  deep  in  my  memory,  so  that  even  now  I  can 
repeat  them. 

"  Richard,"  he  said,  "  I  perceive  you  are  like  your  father.  1 
love  your  spirit  greatly,  but  you  have  been  overrash  to-day. 
Remember  this,  lad,  that  you  are  a  gentleman,  the  son  of  the 
bravest  aud  truest  gentleman  I  have  ever  known,  save  one; 
and  he  is  destined  to  high  things."  I  know  now  that  he 
spoke  of  Colonel  Washington.  "And  that  your  mother,"  — 
here  his  voice  trembled,  —  "  your  mother  was  a  lady,  every  inch 
of  her,  and  too  good  for  this  world.  Remember,  and  seek  no 
company,  therefore,  beyond  that  circle  in  which  you  were 
born.  Fear  not  to  be  kind  and  generous,  as  I  know  you  ever 
will  be,  but  choose  not  intimates  from  the  tavern."  Here  the 
captain  cleared  his  throat,  and  seemed  to  seek  for  words.  "  I 
fear  there  are  times  coming,  my  lad,"  he  went  on  presently, 
"  when  every  man  must  choose  his  side,  and  stand  arrayed  in 
his  own  colours.  It  is  not  for  me  to  shape  your  way  of  think- 
ing. Decide  in  your  own  mind  that  which  is  right,  and  when 
you  have  so  decided,"  —  he  drew  his  sword,  as  was  his  habit 
when  greatly  moved,  and  placed  his  broad  hand  upon  my 
head,  — "  know  then  that  God  is  with  you,  aud  swerve  not 
from  thy  course  the  width  of  this  blade  fo^  any  man." 


26  RICHARD   CARVEL 

We  sat  upon  a  little  bench  in  tlie  Governor's  garden,  in 
front  of  us  the  wide  Severn  merging  into  the  bay,  and  glowing 
like  molten  gold  in  the  setting  sun.  And  I  was  thrilled  with 
a  strange  reverence  such  as  I  have  sometimes  since  felt  in  the 
presence  of  heroes. 


CHAPTER  IV 

GRAFTON   WOULD    HEAL    AN   OLD   BREACH 

Doctor  Hilliard,  my  grandfather's  chaplain,  was  as  holy  a 
man  as  ever  wore  a  gown,  but  I  can  remember  none  of  his  dis- 
courses which  moved  me  as  much  by  half  as  those  simple  words 
Captain  Clapsaddle  had  used.  The  worthy  doctor,  who  had 
baptized  both  my  mother  and  father,  died  suddenly  at  Carvel 
Hall  the  spring  following,  of  a  cold  contracted  while  visiting  a 
poor  man  who  dwelt  across  the  river.  He  would  have  lacked 
but  three  years  of  fourscore  come  Whitsuntide.  He  was  uni- 
versally loved  and  respected  in  that  district  where  he  had  lived 
so  long  and  ably,  by  rich  and  poor  alike,  and  those  of  many 
creeds  saw  him  to  his  last  resting-place.  Mr.  Carroll,  of  Car- 
rollton,  who  was  an  ardent  Catholic,  stood  bareheaded  beside 
the  grave. 

Doctor  Hilliard  was  indeed  a  beacon  in  a  time  when  his 
profession  among  us  was  all  but  darkness,  and  when  many  of 
the  scandals  of  the  community  might  be  laid  at  the  door  of 
those  whose  duty  it  was  to  prevent  them.  The  fault  lay  with- 
out doubt  in  his  Lordship's  charter,  which  gave  to  the  parish- 
ioners no  voice  in  the  choosing  of  their  pastors.  This  matter 
was  left  to  Lord  Baltimore's  whim.  Hence  it  was  that  he 
sent  among  us  so  many  fox-hunting  and  gaming  parsons  who 
read  the  service  ill  and  preached  drowsy  and  illiterate  sermons. 
Gaming  and  fox-hunting,  did  I  say  ?  These  are  but  charitable 
words  to  cover  the  real  characters  of  those  impostors  in  holy 
orders,  whose  doings  would  often  bring  the  blush  of  shame  to 
your  cheeks.  Nay,  I  have  seen  a  clergyman  drunk  in  the  pul= 
pit,  and  even  in  those  freer  days  their  laxity  and  immorality 
were  such  that  many  flocked  to  hear  the  parsons  of  the  Metho* 

27 


28  MCHAED   CARVEL 

dists  and  Lutherans,  whose  simple  and  eloquent  words  and 
simpler  lives  were  worthy  of  their  cloth.  Small  wonder  was 
it,  when  every  strolling  adventurer  and  soldier  out  of  employ, 
ment  took  orders  and  found  favour  in  his  Lordship's  eves,  and 
were  given  the  fattest  livings  in  place  of  worthier  men,  that  the 
Established  Church  fell  somewhat  into  disrepute.  Far  be  it 
from  me  to  say  that  there  were  not  good  men  and  true  in  that 
Church,  but  the  wag  who  writ  this  verse,  which  became  a  com- 
mon saying  in  Maryland,  was  not  far  wrong  for  the  great  body 

of  them :  — 

"  Who  is  a  monster  of  the  first  renown  ? 
A  lettered  sot,  a  drunkard  in  a  gown." 

My  grandfather  did  not  replace  Dr.  Hilliard  at  the  Hall, 
afterwards  saying  the  prayers  himself.  The  doctor  had  been 
my  tutor,  and  in  spite  of  my  waywardness  and  lack  of  love  for 
the  classics  had  taught  me  no  little  Latin  and  Greek,  and  early 
instilled  into  my  mind  those  principles  necessary  for  the  soul's 
salvation.  I  have  often  thought  with  regret  on  the  pranks  I 
played  him.  More  than  once  at  lesson-time  have  I  gone  off 
with  Hugo  and  young  Harvey  for  a  rabbit  hunt,  stealing  two 
dogs  from  the  pack,  and  thus  committing  a  double  offence. 
You  may  be  sure  I  was  well  thrashed  by  Mr.  Carvel,  who 
thought  the  more  of  the  latter  misdoing,  though  obliged  to 
emphasize  the  former.  The  doctor  would  never  raise  his  hand 
against  me.  His  study,  where  I  recited  my  daily  tasks,  was 
that  small  sunny  room  on  the  water  side  of  the  east  wing;  and 
I  well  recall  him  as  he  sat  behind  his  desk  of  a  morning  after 
prayers,  his  horn  spectacles  perched  on  his  high  nose  and  his 
quill  over  his  ear,  and  his  ink-powder  and  pewter  stand  beside 
him.  His  face  would  grow  more  serious  as  I  scanned  my  Virgil 
in  a  faltering  voice,  and  as  he  descanted  on  a  passage  my  eye 
would  wander  out  over  the  green  trees  and  fields  to  the  glisten- 
ing water.  What  cared  I  for  "Arma  virumque"  at  such  a 
time?  I  was  watching  Nebo  afishing  beyond  the  point,  and 
as  he  waded  ashore  the  burden  on  his  shoulders  had  a  much 
keener  interest  for  me  than  that  ^neas  carried  out  of  Troy. 

My  Uncle  Grafton  came  to  Dr.  Hilliard's  funeral,  choosing 
this  opportunity  to  become  reconciled  to  my  grandfather,  who 


GKAFTON  WOULD   HEAL  AN   OLD   BREACH    29 

he  feared  had  not  much  longer  to  live.  Albeit  Mr.  Carvel  was 
as  stout  and  hale  as  ever.  None  of  the  mourners  at  tiie 
doctor's  grave  showed  more  sorrow  than  did  Grafton.  A 
thousand  remembrances  of  the  good  old  man  returned  to  him, 
and  I  heard  hiin  telling  Mr.  Carroll  and  some  other  gentlemen, 
with  much  emotion,  how  he  had  loved  his  reverend  preceptor, 
from  whom  he  had  learned  nothing  but  what  was  good.  *'How 
fortunate  are  you,  Richard,"  he  once  said,  *'to  have  had  such  a 
spiritual  and  intellectual  teacher  in  your  youth.  Would  that 
Philip  might  have  learned  from  such  a  one.  And  I  trust  you 
can  say,  my  lad,  that  you  have  made  the  best  of  your  advan- 
tages, though  I  fear  you  are  of  a  wild  nature,  as  your  father 
was  before  you."  And  my  uncle  sighed  and  crossed  his  hands 
behind  his  back.  "'Tis  perhaps  better  that  poor  John  is  in 
his  grave,"  he  said.  Grafton  had  a  word  and  a  smile  for 
every  one  about  the  old  place,  but  little  else,  being,  as  he  said, 
but  a  younger  son  and  a  poor  man.  I  was  near  to  forgetting 
the  shilling  he  gave  Scipio.  'Twas  not  so  unostentatiously 
done  but  that  Mr.  Carvel  and  I  marked  it.  And  afterwards  I 
made  Scipio  give  me  the  coin,  replacing  it  with  another,  and 
flung  it  as  far  into  the  river  as  ever  I  could  throw. 

As  was  but  proper  to  show  his  sorrow  at  the  death  of  the 
old  chaplain  he  had  loved  so  much,  Grafton  came  to  the  Hall 
drest  entirely  in  black.  He  would  have  had  his  lady  and 
Philip,  a  lad  near  my  own  age,  clad  likewise  in  sombre  colours. 
But  my  Aunt  Caroline  Avould  none  of  them,  holding  it  to  be  the 
right  of  her  sex  to  dress  as  became  its  charms.  Her  silks  and 
laces  went  but  ill  with  the  low  estate  my  uncle  claimed  for  his 
purse,  and  Master  Philip's  wardrobe  was  twice  the  size  of 
mine.  And  the  family  travelled  in  a  coach  as  grand  as  Mr. 
Carvel's  own,  Avith  panels  wreathed  in  flowers  and  a  footman 
and  outrider  in  livery,  from  which  my  aunt  descended  like  a 
duchess.  She  embraced  my  grandfather  with  much  warmth, 
and  kissed  me  effusively  on  both  cheeks. 

"And  this  is  dear  Richard?"  she  cried.  "Philip,  come  at 
once  and  greet  your  cousin.  He  has  not  the  look  of  the  Car- 
vels," she  continued  volubly,  "but  more  resembles  his  mother, 
as  I  recall  her." 


30  EICHAED  CAEVEL. 

"Indeed,  madam,"  my  grandfather  answered  somewhat  tes 
tily,  "he  has  the  Carvel  nose  and  mouth,  though  his  chin  is 
more  pronounced.     He  has  Elizabeth's  eyes." 

But  my  aunt  was  a  woman  who  flew  from  one  subject  tc 
another,  and  she  had  already  ceased  to  think  of  me.  She  was 
in  the  hall.  "  The  dear  old  home ! "  she  cries,  though  she  had 
been  in  it  but  once  before,  regarding  lovingly  each  object  as 
her  eye  rested  upon  it,  nay,  caressingly  when  she  came  to  the 
great  punch-bowl  and  the  carved  mahogany  dresser,  and  the 
Peter  Lely  over  the  broad  fireplace.  "What  memories  they 
must  bring  to  your  mind,  my  dear,"  she  remarks  to  her  hus- 
band. "'Tis  cruel,  as  I  once  said  to  dear  papa,  that  we  cannot 
always  live  under  the  old  rafters  we  loved  so  well  as  children." 
And  the  good  lady  brushes  away  a  tear  with  her  embroidered 
pocket-napkin.  Tears  that  will  come  in  spite  of  us  all.  But 
she  brightens  instantly  and  smiles  at  the  line  of  servants  drawn 
up  to  welcome  them.  "  This  is  Scipio,  my  son,  who  was  with 
your  grandfather  when  your  father  was  born,  and  before." 
Master  Philip  nods  graciously  in  response  to  Scipio's  delighted 
bow.  "  And  Harvey,"  my  aunt  rattles  on.  "  Have  you  any 
new  mares  to  surprise  us  with  this  year,  Harvey?"  Harvey 
not  being  as  overcome  with  Mrs.  Grafton's  condescension  as 
was  proper,  she  turns  again  to  Mr.  Carvel. 

"  Ah,  father,  I  see  you  are  in  sore  need  of  a  woman's  hand 
about  the  old  house.  What  a  difference  a  touch  makes,  to  be 
sure."  And  she  takes  off  her  gloves  and  attacks  the  morning 
room,  setting  an  ornament  here  and  another  there,  and  drawing 
back  for  the  effect.  "  Such  a  bachelor's  hall  as  you  are  keep- 
ing ! " 

"We  still  have  Willis,  Caroline,"  remonstrates  my  grand- 
father, gravely.  "  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  her  housekeep- 
ing." 

"Of  course  not,  father;  men  never  notice,"  Aunt  Caroline 
replies  in  an  aggrieved  tone.  And  when  Willis  herself  comes 
in,  auguring  no  good  from  this  visit,  my  aunt  gives  her  the  tips 
of  her  fingers.     And  I  imagine  I  see  a  spark  fly  between  them. 

As  for  Grafton,  he  was  more  than  willing  to  let  bygones  be 
bygones  between  his  father  and  himself.     Aunt  Caroline  said 


GEAFTON   WOULD   HEAL  AN   OLD  BREACH    31 

with  feeling  that  Dr.  Hilliard's  death  was  a  blessing,  after 
all,  since  it  brought  a  long-separated  father  and  son  together 
once  more.  Grafton  had  been  misjudged  and  ill-used,  and  he 
tailed  Heaven  to  witness  that  the  quarrel  had  never  been  of 
his  seeking,  —  a  statement  which  Mr.  Carvel  was  at  no  pains 
to  prove  perjury.  How  attentive  was  Mr.  Grafton  to  his 
father's  every  want.  He  read  his  Gazette  to  him  of  a  Thursday, 
though  the  old  gentleman's  eyes  are  as  good  as  ever.  If  Mr. 
Carvel  walks  out  of  an  evening,  Grafton's  arm  is  ever  ready, 
and  my  uncle  and  his  worthy  lady  are  eager  to  take  a  hand  at 
cards  before  supper.  "  Philip,  my  dear,"  says  my  aunt,  "  thy 
grandfather's  slippers,"  or,  "  Philip,  my  love,  thy  grandfather's 
hat  and  cane."  But  it  is  plain  that  Master  Philip  has  not  been 
brought  up  to  wait  on  his  elders.  He  is  curled  with  a  novel 
in  his  grandfather's  easy  chair  by  the  window.  "There  is  Dio, 
mamma,  who  has  naught  to  do  but  serve  grandpapa,"  says  he, 
and  gives  a  pull  at  the  cord  over  his  head  which  rings  the  bell 
about  the  servants'  ears  in  the  hall  below.  And  Dio,  the  whites 
of  his  eyes  showing,  comes  running  into  the  room. 

"  It  is  nothing,  Diomedes,"  says  Mr.  Carvel.  "  Master  Philip 
will  fetch  what  I  need."  Master  Philip's  papa  and  mamma  stare 
at  each  other  in  a  surprise  mingled  with  no  little  alarm,  Master 
Philip  being  to  all  appearances  intent  upon  his  book. 

"Philip,"  says  my  grandfather,  gently.  I  had  more  than 
once  heard  him  speak  thus,  and  well  kncAV  what  was  coming. 
"  Sir,"  replies  my  cousin,  without  looking  up.  "  Follow  me, 
sir,"  said  Mr.  Carvel,  in  a  voice  so  different  that  Philip  drops 
his  book.  They  went  up  the  stairs  together,  and  what  occurred 
there  I  leave  to  the  imagination.  But  when  next  Philip  was 
bidden  to  do  an  errand  for  Mr.  Carvel  my  grandfather  said 
quietly :  "  I  prefer  that  Eichard  should  go,  Caroline."  And 
though  my  aunt  and  uncle,  much  mortified,  begged  him  to  give 
Philip  another  chance,  he  would  never  permit  it. 

Nevertheless,  a  great  effort  was  made  to  restore  Philip  to  his 
grandfather's  good  graces.  At  breakfast  one  morning,  after 
my  aunt  had  poured  Mr.  Carvel's  tea  and  made  her  customary 
compliment  to  the  blue  and  gold  breakfast  china,  my  Uncle 
Grafton  spoke  up. 


32  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Now  that  Dr.  Hilliard  is  gone,  father,  what  do  you  purpose 
concerning  Richard's  schooling  ?" 

"He  shall  go  to  King  William's  school  in  the  autumn,' 
Mr.  Carvel  replied. 

"  In  the  autumn  ! "  cried  my  uncle.  "  I  do  not  give  Philip 
even  the  short  holiday  of  this  visit.  He  has  his  Greek  and 
his  Virgil  every  day." 

"And  can  repeat  the  best  passages,"  my  aunt  chimes  in. 
*'  Philip,  my  dear,  recite  that  one  your  father  so  delights  in." 

However  unwilling  Master  Philip  had  been  to  disturb  him- 
self for  errands,  he  was  nothing  loth  to  show  his  knowledge, 
and  recited  glibly  enough  several  lines  of  his  Virgil  verbatim ; 
thereby  pleasing  his  fond  parents  greatly  and  my  grandfather 
not  a  little. 

"I  will  add  a  crown  to  your  savings,  Philip,"  says  his 
father. 

"And  here  is  a  pistole  to  spend  as  you  will,"  says  Mr.  Car- 
vel, tossing  him  the  piece. 

"  Nay,  father,  I  do  not  encourage  the  lad  to  be  a  spendthrift," 
says  Grafton,  taking  the  pistole  himself.  "  I  will  place  this 
token  of  your  appreciation  in  his  strong-box.  You  know  we 
have  a  prodigal  strain  in  the  family,  sir."  And  my  uncle 
looks  at  me  significantly. 

"  Let  it  be  as  I  say,  Grafton,"  persists  Mr.  Carvel,  who  liked 
not  to  be  balked  in  any  matter,  and  was  not  overpleased  at 
this  reference  to  my  father.  And  he  gave  Philip  forthwith 
another  pistole,  telling  his  father  to  add  the  first  to  his  saving 
if  he  would. 

"  And  Richard  must  have  his  chance,"  says  my  Aunt  Caro- 
line, sweetly,  as  she  rises  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Ay,  here  is  a  crown  for  you,  Richard,"  says  my  uncle, 
smiling.  "Let  us  hear  your  Latin,  which  should  be  purer 
than  Philip's." 

My  grandfather  glanced  uneasily  at  me  across  the  table ;  he 
saw  clearly  the  trick  Grafton  had  played  me,  I  think.  But  for 
once  I  was  equal  to  my  uncle,  and  haply  remembered  a  line 
Dr.  Hilliard  had  expounded,  which  fitted  the  present  case  mar- 
vellously well.     With  little  ceremony  I  tossed  back  the  crown, 


GEAFTON   WOULD   HEAL   AN   OLD   BREACH    33 

and  slowly  repeated  those  words  used  to  warn  the  Trojans 
against  accepting  the  Grecian  horse  :  — 

"  Timeo  Danaos  et  dona  ferentesJ" 

"  Egad,"  cried  Mr.  Carvel,  slapping  his  knee,  "  the  lad  hath 
beaten  you  on  your  own  ground,  Grafton."  And  he  laughed 
as  my  grandfather  only  could  laugh,  until  the  dishes  rattled 
on  the  table.     But  my  uncle  thought  it  no  matter  for  jesting. 

Philip  was  also  well  versed  in  politics  for  a  lad  of  his  age, 
and  could  discuss  glibly  the  right  of  Parliament  to  tax  the 
colonies.  He  denounced  the  seditious  doings  in  Annapolis  and 
Boston  Town  with  an  air  of  easy  familiarity,  for  Philip  had 
the  memory  of  a  parrot,  and  'twas  easy  to  perceive  whence  his 
knowledge  sprang.  But  when  my  fine  master  spoke  dispar- 
agingly of  the  tradesmen  as  at  the  bottom  of  the  trouble,  my 
grandfather's  patience  came  to  an  end. 

"  And  what  think  you  lies  beneath  the  wealth  and  power  of 
England,  Philip  ?  "  he  asked. 

'*  Her  nobility,  sir,  and  the  riches  she  draws  from  her  colo- 
nies," retorts  Master  Philip,  readily  enough. 

"  Not  so,"  Mr.  Carvel  said  gravely.  "  She  owes  her  great- 
ness to  her  merchants,  or  tradesmen,  as  you  choose  to  call 
them.  And  commerce  must  be  at  the  backbone  of  every 
great  nation.  Tradesmen ! "  exclaimed  my  grandfather. 
"  Where  would  any  of  us  be  were  it  not  for  trade  ?  We  sell 
our  tobacco  and  our  wheat,  and  get  money  in  return.  And 
your  father  makes  a  deal  here  and  a  deal  there,  and  so  gets 
rich  in  spite  of  his  pittance." 

My  Uncle  Grafton  raised  his  hand  to  protest,  but  Mr.  Carvel 
continued :  — 

"  I  know  you,  Grafton,  I  know  you.  When  a  lad  it  was 
your  habit  to  lay  aside  the  money  I  gave  you,  and  so  pretend 
you  had  none." 

"And  'twas  Avell  I  learned  then  to  be  careful,"  said  my 
uncle,  losing  for  the  instant  his  control,  "  for  you  loved  the 
spendthrift  best,  and  I  should  be  but  a  beggar  now  without 
my  wisdom." 

"I  loved  not  John's  carelessness  with  money,  but  other 
qualities  in  him  which  you  lacked,"  answered  Mr.  Carvel. 


34  EICHARD   CARVEL 

Grafton  shot  a  swift  glance  at  me ;  and  so  much  of  malice 
and  of  hatred  was  conveyed  in  that  look  that  with  a  sense  of 
prophecy  I  shuddered  to  think  that  some  day  I  should  have 
to  cope  with  such  craft.  For  he  detested  me  threefold,  and 
combined  the  hate  he  bore  my  dead  father  and  mother  with 
the  ill-will  he  bore  me  for  standing  in  his  way  and  Philip's 
with  my  grandfather's  property.  But  so  deftly  could  he  hide 
his  feelings  that  he  was  smiling  again  instantly.  To  see  once, 
however,  the  white  belly  of  the  shark  flash  on  the  surface  of 
the  blue  water  is  sufficient. 

"  I  beg  of  you  not  to  jest  of  me  before  the  lads,  father," 
said  Grafton. 

"  God  knows  there  was  little  jest  in  what  I  said,"  replied 
Mr.  Carvel,  soberly,  "  and  I  care  not  who  hears  it.  Your  own 
son  will  one  day  know  you  well  enough,  if  he  does  not  now. 
Do  not  imagine,  because  I  am  old,  that  I  am  grown  so  foolish 
as  to  believe  that  a  black  sheep  can  become  white  save  by 
dye.  And  dye  will  never  deceive  such  as  me.  And  Philip," 
the  shrewd  old  gentleman  went  on,  turning  to  my  cousin,  "  do 
not  let  thy  father  or  any  other  make  thee  believe  there  cannot 
be  two  sides  to  every  question.  I  recognize  in  your  arguments 
that  which  smacks  of  his  tongue,  despite  what  he  says  of 
your  reading  the  public  prints  and  of  forming  your  own  opin- 
ions. And  do  not  condemn  the  Whigs,  many  of  whom  are 
worthy  men  and  true,  because  they  quarrel  with  what  they 
deem  an  unjust  method  of  taxation." 

Grafton  had  given  many  of  the  old  servants  cause  to  remem- 
ber him.  Harvey  in  particular,  who  had  come  from  England 
early  in  the  century  with  my  grandfather,  spoke  with  bitter- 
ness of  him.  On  the  subject  of  my  uncle,  the  old  coachman's 
taciturnity  gave  way  to  torrents  of  reproach.  "Beware  of 
him  as  has  no  use  for  horses.  Master  Richard,"  he  would  say ; 
for  this  trait  in  Grafton  in  Harvey's  mind  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  all  others.  At  my  uncle's  approach  he  would  retire  into 
his  shell  like  an  oyster,  nor  could  he  be  got  to  utter  more  than 
a  monosyllable  in  his  presence.  Harvey's  face  would  twitch, 
and  his  fingers  clench  of  themselves  as  he  touched  his  cap. 
And  with  my  Aunt  Caroline  he  was  the  same.     He  vouchsafed 


GRAFTON   WOULD   HEAL  AN   OLD  BREACH    35 

out  a  curt  reply  to  all  lier  questions,  nor  did  her  raptures  over 
the  stud  soften  him  in  the  least.  She  would  come  tripping 
into  the  stable  yard,  daintily  holding  up  her  skirts,  and  crying, 
"  Oh,  Harvey,  I  have  heard  so  much  of  Tanglefoot.  I  must 
see  him  before  I  go."  Tanglefoot  is  led  out  begrudgiugly 
enough,  and  Aunt  Caroline  goes  over  his  points,  missing  the 
greater  part  of  them,  and  remarking  on  the  depth  of  chest, 
which  is  nothing  notable  in  Tanglefoot.  Harvey  winks  slyly 
at  me  the  while,  and  never  so  much  as  offers  a  word  of  correc- 
tion. *'  You  must  take  Philip  to  ride,  Richard,  my  dear,"  says 
my  aunt.  "  His  father  was  never  as  fond  of  it  as  I  could  have 
wished.  I  hold  that  every  gentleman  should  ride  to  hounds." 
"  Humph !  "  grunts  Harvey,  when  she  is  gone  to  the  house, 
"  Master  Philip  to  hunt,  indeed !  Foxes  to  hunt  foxes ! " 
And  he  gives  vent  to  a  dry  laugh  over  his  joke,  in  which  I 
cannot  but  join.  "Horsemen  grows.  Eh,  Master  Richard? 
There  was  Captain  Jack,  who  jumped  from  the  cradle  into  the 
saddle,  and  I  never  once  seen  a  horse  get  the  better  o'  him. 
And  that's  God's  truth."  And  he  smooths  out  Tanglefoot's 
mane,  adding  reflectively,  "And  you  be  just  like  him.  But 
there  was  scarce  a  horse  in  the  stables  what  wouldn't  lay  back 
his  ears  at  Mr.  Grafton,  and  small  blame  to  'em,  say  I.  He 
never  dared  go  near  'em.  Oh,  Master  Philip  comes  by  it 
honestly  enough.  She  thinks  old  Harvey  don't  know  a  thor- 
oughbred when  he  sees  one,  sir.  But  Mrs.  Grafton's  no  thor- 
oughbred ;  I  tell  'ee  that,  though  I'm  saying  nothing  as  to  her 
points,  mark  ye.  I've  seen  her  sort  in  the  old  country,  and 
I've  seen  'em  here,  and  it's  the  same  the  world  over,  in  Injy 
and  Chiny,  too.  Fine  trappings  don't  make  the  horse,  and 
they  don't  take  thoroughbreds  from  a  grocer's  cart.  A  Phila- 
delphy  grocer,"  sniffs  this  old  aristocrat.  "I'd  knowed  her 
father  was  a  grocer  had  I  seen  her  in  Pall  Mall  with  a  Royal 
Highness,  by  her  gait,  I  may  say.  Thy  mother  was  a  thorough- 
bred, Master  Richard,  and  I'll  tell  'ee  another,"  he  goes  on  with 
a  chuckle,  "  Mistress  Dorothy  Manners  is  such  another;  you 
don't  mistake  'em  with  their  high  heads  and  patreeshan  ways, 
though  her  father  be  one  of  them  accidents  as  will  occur  ia 
every  stock.   She's  one  to  tame,  sir,  and  I  don't  envy  no  young 


3&  RICHARD   CARVEL 

gentleman  tlie  task.  But  this  I  knows,"  says  Harvey,  not 
heeding  my  red  cheeks,  ''  that  Master  Philip,  with  all  his  satin 
smallclothes,  will  nerer  do  it." 

Indeed,  it  was  no  secret  that  my  Aunt  Caroline  had  been  a 
Miss  Flaven,  of  Philadelphia,  though  she  would  have  had  the 
fashion  of  our  province  to  believe  that  she  belonged  to  the 
Governor's  set  there  ;  and  she  spoke  in  terms  of  easy  familiarity 
©f  the  first  families  of  her  native  city,  deceiving  no  one  save 
herself,  poor  lady.  How  fondly  do  we  believe,  with  the  os- 
trich, that  our  body  is  hidden  when  our  head  is  tucked  under 
our  wing  !  Not  a  visitor  in  Philadelphia  but  knew  Terence 
Flaven,  Mrs.  Grafton  Carvel's  father,  who  not  many  years 
since  sold  tea  and  spices  and  soap  and  glazed  teapots  over  his 
own  counter,  and  still  advertised  his  cargoes  in  the  public 
prints.  He  was  a  broad  and  charitable-minded  man  enough, 
and  unassuming,  but  gave  way  at  last  to  the  pressure  brought 
upon  him  by  his  wife  and  daughter,  and  bought  a  mansion. 
Terence  Flaven  never  could  be  got  to  stay  there  save  to  sleep, 
and  preferred  to  spend  his  time  in  his  shop,  which  was  grown 
greatly,  chatting  with  his  customers,  and  bowing  the  ladies 
to  their  chariots.  I  need  hardly  say  that  this  worthy  man 
was  on  far  better  terms  than  his  family  with  those  personages 
whose  society  they  strove  so  hard  to  attain. 

At  the  time  of  Miss  Flaven's  marriage  to  my  uncle  'twas  a 
piece  of  gossip  in  every  mouth  that  he  had  taken  her  for  her 
dower,  which  was  not  inconsiderable ;  though  to  hear  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Grafton  talk  they  knew  not  whence  the  next  month's 
provender  was  to  come.  They  went  to  live  in  Kent  County, 
as  I  have  said,  spending  some  winters  in  Philadelphia,  where 
Mr.  Grafton  was  thought  to  have  interests,  though  it  never 
30uld  be  discovered  what  his  investments  were.  On  hearing 
of  his  marriage,  which  took  place  shortly  before  my  father's, 
Mr.  Carvel  expressed  neither  displeasure  nor  surprise.  But  he 
would  not  hear  of  my  mother's  request  to  settle  a  portion  upon 
his  younger  son. 

"  He  has  the  Kent  estate,  Bess,"  said  he,  "  which  is  by  far 
too  good  for  him.  Never  doubt  but  that  the  rogue  can  feather 
his  own  nest  far  better  than  can  I,  as  indeed  he  hath  already 


GRAFTON   WOULD   HEAL  AN   OLD   BREACH     37 

done.  And  by  the  Lord,"  cried  Mr.  Carvel,  bringing  his  fist 
down  upon  the  card-table  where  they  sat,  "  he  shall  never  get 
another  farthing  of  my  money  while  I  live,  nor  afterwards,  ii 
I  can  help  it !  I  would  rather  give  it  over  to  Mr.  Carroll  to 
found  a  nunnery." 

And  so  that  matter  ended,  for  Mr.  Carvel  could  not  be  moved 
from  a  purpose  he  had  once  made.  Nor  would  he  make  any 
advances  whatsoever  to  Grafton,  or  receive  those  hints  which 
my  uncle  was  forever  dropping,  until  at  length  he  begged  to 
be  allowed  to  come  to  Dr.  Hilliard's  funeral,  a  request  my 
grandfather  could  not  in  decency  refuse.  'Twas  a  pathetic 
letter  in  truth,  and  served  its  purpose  well,  though  it  was  not 
as  dust  in  the  old  gentleman's  eyes.  He  called  me  into  his 
bedroom  and  told  me  that  my  Uncle  Grafton  was  coming  at 
last.  And  seeing  that  I  said  nothing  thereto,  he  gave  me  a 
queer  look  and  bade  me  treat  them  as  civilly  as  I  knew  how. 
"I  well  know  thy  temper,  Richard,"  said  he,  '^and  I  fear 
'twill  bring  thee  trouble  enough  in  life.  Try  to  control  it,  my 
lad ;  take  an  old  man's  advice  and  try  to  control  it."  He  was 
in  one  of  his  gentler  moods,  and  passed  his  arm  about  me,  and 
together  we  stood  looking  silently  through  the  square  panes 
out  into  the  rain,  at  the  ducks  paddling  in  the  puddles  until 
the  darkness  hid  them. 

And  God  knows,  lad  that  I  was,  I  tried  to  be  civil  to  them. 
But  my  tongue  rebelled  at  the  very  sight  of  my  uncle  ('twas 
bred  into  me,  I  suppose),  and  his  fairest  words  seemed  to  me 
to  contain  a  hidden  sting.  Once,  when  he  spoke  in  his  innu- 
endo of  my  father,  I  ran  from  the  room  to  restrain  some  act 
of  violence ;  1  know  not  what  I  should  have  done.  And  Wil- 
lis found  me  in  the  deserted  study  of  the  doctor,  where  my 
hot  tears  had  stained  the  flowered  paper  on  the  wall.  She  did 
her  best  to  calm  me,  good  soul,  though  she  had  her  own 
troubles  with  my  Lady  Caroline  to  think  about  at  the  time. 

I  had  one  experience  with  Master  Philip  before  our  visitors 
betook  themselves  back  to  Kent,  which,  unfortunate  as  it  was, 
I  cannot  but  relate  here.  My  cousin  would  enter  into  none  of 
those  rough  amusements  in  which  I  passed  my  time,  for  fear, 
I  took  it,  of  spoiling  his  fine  broadcloths  or  of  losing  a  gold 


38  RICHAED  CARVEL 

bucklft  He  never  could  be  got  to  wrestle,  though  I  challenged 
him  more  than  once.  And  he  was  a  well-built  lad,  and  might> 
with  a  little  practice,  have  become  skilled  in  that  sport.  He 
laughed  at  the  homespun  I  wore  about  the  farm,  saying  it  was 
no  costume  for  a  gentleman's  son,  and  begged  me  sneeringly  to 
don  leather  breeches.  He  would  have  none  of  the  company  of 
those  lads  with  whom  I  found  pleasure,  young  Harvey,  and 
Willis's  son,  who  was  being  trained  as  Mr.  Starkie's  assistant. 
Nor  indeed  did  I  disdain  to  join  in  a  game  with  Hugo,  who 
had  been  given  to  me,  and  other  negro  lads.  Phlr.p  saw  no 
sport  in  a  wrestle  or  a  fight  between  two  of  the  boys  from  the 
quarters,  and  marvelled  that  I  could  lower  myself  to  bet  with 
Harvey  the  younger.  He  took  not  a  spark  of  interest  in  the 
gaming  cocks  we  raised  together  to  compete  at  the  local  con- 
tests and  at  the  fair,  and  knew  not  a  gaff  from  a  cockspur. 
Being  one  day  at  my  wits'  end  to  amuse  my  cousin,  I  proposed 
to  him  a  game  of  quoits  on  the  green  beside  the  spring-house, 
and  thither  we  repaired,  followed  by  Hugo,  and  young  Harvey 
come  to  look  on.  Master  Philip,  not  casting  as  well  as  he 
might,  cries  out  suddenly  to  Hugo :  — 

"  Begone,  5  ou  black  dog !  What  business  have  you  here 
watching  a  game  between  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  He  is  my  servant,  cousin,"  I  said  quietly,  "  and  no  dog,  if 
you  please.     And  he  is  under  my  orders,  not  yours." 

But  Philip,  having  scarcely  scored  a  point,  was  in  a  rage. 
"  And  I'll  not  have  him  here,"  he  shouted,  giving  poor  Hugo  a 
cuff  which  sent  him  stumbling  over  the  stake.  And  turning 
to  me;  continued  insolently :  "  Ever  since  we  came  here  I  have 
marked  your  manner  toward  us,  as  though  my  father  had  no 
right  in  my  grandfather's  house." 

Then  could  I  no  longer  contain  myself.  I  heard  young 
Harvey  laugh,  and  remark:  "'Tis  all  up  with  Master  Philip 
now."  But  Philip,  whatever  else  he  may  have  been,  was  no 
coward,  and  had  squared  off  to  face  me  by  the  time  I  had  run 
the  distance  between  the  stakes.  He  was  heavier  than  I, 
though  not  so  tall ;  and  he  parried  my  first  blow  and  my  second, 
and  many  more;  having  lively  work  of  it,  however,  for  I  hit 
him  as  often  as  I  was  able.     To  speak  truth,  I  had  not  looked 


GRAFTOK   WOULD  HEAL  AN   OLD  BREACH    39 

for  such  resistance,  and  seeing  that  I  could  not  knock  him 
down,  out  of  hand,  I  grew  more  cool  and  began  to  study  what 
I  was  doing. 

*'  Take  off  your  macaroni  coat,"  said  I.  "  I  have  no  wish  to 
ruin  your  clothes." 

But  he  only  jeered  in  return:  "Take  off  thy  wool-sack." 
And  Hugo,  getting  to  his  feet,  cried  out  to  me  not  to  hurt 
Marse  Philip,  that  he  had  meant  no  harm.  But  this  only 
enraged  Philip  the  more,  and  he  swore  a  round  oath  at  Hugo 
and  another  at  me,  and  dealt  a  vicious  blow  at  my  stomach, 
whereat  Harvey  called  out  to  him  to  fight  fair.  He  was  more 
skilful  at  the  science  of  boxing  than  I,  though  I  was  the  better 
fighter,  having,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  fought  but  too  often  before. 
And  presently,  when  I  had  closed  one  of  his  eyes,  his  skill  went 
all  to  pieces,  and  he  made  a  mad  rush  at  me.  A's  he  went  by 
I  struck  him  so  hard  that  he  fell  heavily  and  lay  motionless. 

Young  Harvey  ran  into  the  spring-house  and  filled  his  hat  as 
I  bent  over  my  cousin.  I  unbuttoned  his  waistcoat  and  felt 
his  heart,  and  rejoiced  to  find  it  beating;  we  poured  cold  water 
over  his  face  and  wrists.  By  then,  Hugo,  who  was  badly  fright- 
ened, had  told  the  news  in  the  house,  and  I  saw  my  Aunt 
Caroline  come  running  over  the  green  as  fast  as  her  tight  stays 
would  permit,  crying  out  that  I  had  killed  her  boy,  her  dear 
Philip.  And  after  her  came  my  Uncle  Grafton  and  my  grand- 
father, with  all  the  servants  who  had  been  in  hearing.  I  was 
near  to  crying  myself  at  the  thought  that  I  should  grieve  my 
grandfather.  And  my  aunt,  as  she  knelt  over  Philip,  pushed 
me  away,  and  bade  me  not  touch  him.  But  my  cousin  opened 
one  of  his  eyes,  and  raised  his  hand  to  his  head. 

"  Thank  Heaven  he  is  not  killed  ! "  exclaims  Aunt  Caroline, 
fervently. 

"  Thank  God,  indeed ! "  echoes  my  uncle,  and  gives  me  a  look 
as  much  as  to  say  that  I  am  not  to  be  thanked  for  it.  "  I  have 
often  warned  you,  sir,"  he  says  to  Mr.  Carvel,  "  that  we  do  not 
inherit  from  stocks  and  stones.  And  so  much  has  come  of 
our  charity." 

I  knew,  lad  that  I  was,  that  he  spoke  of  my  mother ;  and  my 
blood  boiled  within  me. 


40  RICHARD  CARVEL 

"  Have  a  care,  sir,  with  your  veiled  insults,"  I  cried,  "  or  1 
will  serve  you  as  I  have  served  your  son." 

Grafton  threw  up  his  hands. 

"What  have  we  harboured,  father?"  says  he.  But  Mr. 
Carvel  seized  him  by  the  shoulder.  "  Peace,  Grafton,  before 
the  servants,"  he  said,  "  and  cease  thy  crying,  Caroline.  The 
lad  is  not  hurt."  And  being  a  tall  man,  six  feet  in  his  stock- 
ings, and  strong  despite  his  age,  he  raised  Philip  from  the 
grass,  and  sternly  bade  him  walk  to  the  house,  which  he  did, 
leaning  on  his  mother's  arm.  "As  for  you,  Richard,"  my 
grandfather  went  on,  "you  will  go  into  my  study." 

Into  his  study  I  went,  where  presently  he  came  also,  and 
I  told  him  the  affair  in  as  few  words  as  I  might.  And  he, 
knowing  my  hatred  of  falsehood,  questioned  me  not  at  all,  but 
paced  to  and  fro,  I  following  him  with  my  eyes,  and  truly  sorry 
that  I  had  given  him  pain.  And  finally  he  dismissed  me,  bid- 
ding me  make  it  up  with  my  cousin,  which  I  was  nothing  loth 
to  do.  What  he  said  to  Philip  and  his  father  I  know  not. 
That  evening  we  shook  hands,  though  Philip's  face  was  much 
swollen,  and  my  uncle  smiled,  and  was  even  pleasanter  than 
before,  saying  that  boys  would  be  boys.  But  I  think  my  Aunt 
Caroline  could  never  wholly  hide  the  malice  she  bore  me  for 
what  I  had  done  that  day. 

When  at  last  the  visitors  were  gone,  every  face  on  the  plan- 
tation wore  a  brighter  look.  Harvey  said :  "  God  bless  their 
backs,  which  is  the  only  part  I  ever  care  to  see  of  their 
honours."  And  Willis  gave  us  a  supper  fit  for  a  king.  Mr. 
Lloyd  and  his  lady  were  with  us,  and  Mr.  Carvel  told  his  old 
stories  of  the  time  of  the  First  George,  many  of  which  I  can 
even  now  repeat :  how  he  and  two  other  collegians  fought  half 
a  dozen  Mohocks  in  Norfolk  Street,  and  fairly  beat  them ;  and 
how  he  discovered  by  chance  a  Jacobite  refugee  in  Greenwich, 
and  what  came  of  it;  nor  did  he  forget  that  oft-told  episode 
with  Dean  Swift.  And  these  he  rehearsed  in  such  merry  spirit 
and  new  guise  that  we  scarce  recognized  them,  and  Colonel 
Lloyd  so  choked  Avith  laughter  that  more  than  once  he  had  to 
be  hit  between  the  shoulders 


CHAPTER  V 
"if  ladies  be  but  young  and  faie* 

Ko  boyhood  could  have  been  happier  than  mine,  and  through- 
out  ib,  ever  present  with  me,  were  a  shadow  and  a  light.  The 
shadow  was  my  Uncle  Grafton.  I  know  not  what  strange  in- 
tuition of  the  child  made  me  think  of  him  so  constantly  after 
that  visit  he  paid  us,  but  often  I  would  wake  from  my  sleep 
with  his  name  upon  my  lips,  and  a  dread  at  my  heart.  The 
light  —  need  I  say  ?  —  was  Miss  Dorothy  Manners.  Little 
Miss  Dolly  was  often  at  the  Hall  after  that  happy  week  we 
spent  together;  and  her  home,  Wilmot  House,  was  scarce  three 
miles  across  wood  and  field  by  our  plantation  roads.  I  was 
a  stout  little  fellow  enough,  and  before  I  was  twelve  I  had 
learned  to  follow  to  hounds  my  grandfather's  guests  on  my 
pony ;  and  Mr.  Lloyd  and  Mr.  Carvel  when  they  shot  on  the 
duck  points.  Ay,  and  what  may  surprise  you,  my  dears,  I  was 
given  a  weak  little  toddy  off  the  noggin  at  night,  while  the  gentle- 
men stretched  their  limbs  before  the  fire,  or  played  at  whist  or  loo. 
Mr.  Carvel  would  have  no  milksop,  so  he  said.  But  he  early 
impressed  upon  me  that  moderation  was  the  mark  of  a  true 
man,  even  as  excess  was  that  of  a  weak  one. 

And  so  it  was  no  wonder  that  I  frequently  found  my  way  to 
Wilmot  House  alone.  There  I  often  stayed  the  whole  day 
long,  romping  with  Dolly  at  games  of  our  own  invention, 
and  many  the  time  I  was  sent  home  after  dark  by  Mrs.  Man- 
ners with  Jim,  the  groom.  About  once  in  the  week  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Manners  would  bring  Dorothy  over  for  dinner  or  tea  at 
the  Hall.  She  grew  quickly — so  quickly  that  I  scarce  real- 
ized —  into  a  tall  slip  of  a  girl,  who  could  be  wilful  and  cruel, 
laughing  or  forgiving,  shy  or  impudent,  in  a  breath.     She  had 

41 


42  RICHAED  CARVEL 

as  many  moods  as  the  sea.  I  have  heard  her  entertain  Mr. 
Lloyd  and  Mr.  Bordley  and  the  ladies,  and  my  grandfather,  by 
the  hour,  while  I  sat  by  silent  and  miserable,  but  proud  of  ker 
all  the  same.  Boylike,  I  had  grown  to  think  of  her  as  my  pos- 
session, tho'  she  gave  me  no  reason  whatever.  I  believe  I  had 
held  ray  hand  over  fire  for  her,  at  a  word.  And,  indeed,  I  did 
many  of  her  biddings  to  make  me  wonder,  now,  that  I  was  not 
killed.  It  used  to  please  her,  Ivie  too,  to  see  me  go  the  round 
of  the  windmill,  tho'  she  would  cry  out  after  I  left  the  ground. 
And  once,  when  it  was  turning  faster  than  common  and  Ivie  not 
there  to  prevent,  I  near  lost  my  hold  at  the  top,  and  was  thrown 
at  the  bottom  with  such  force  that  I  lay  stunned  for  a  full 
minute.  I  opened  my  eyes  to  find  her  bending  over  me  with 
such  a  look  of  fright  and  remorse  upon  her  face  as  I  shall  never 
forget.  Again,  walking  out  on  the  bowsprit  of  the  Oriole  while 
she  stood  watching  me  from  the  dock,  I  lost  my  balance  and 
fell  into  the  water.  On  another  occasion  I  fought  Will  Fother- 
ingay,  whose  parents  had  come  for  a  visit,  because  he  dared 
say  he  would  marry  her. 

"  She  is  to  marry  an  earl,"  I  cried,  tho'  I  had  thrashed 
another  lad  for  saying  so.  "  Mr.  Manners  is  to  take  her  home 
when  she  is  grown,  to  marry  her  to  an  earl." 

"At  least  she  will  not  marry  you.  Master  Richard,"  sneered 
Will.     And  then  I  hit  him. 

Indeed,  even  at  that  early  day  the  girl's  beauty  was  enough 
to  make  her  talked  about.  And  that  foolish  little  fop,  her 
father,  had  more  than  once  declared  before  a  company  in  our 
dining  room  that  it  was  high  time  another  title  came  into  his 
family,  and  tnat  he  meant  to  take  Dolly  abroad  when  she  was 
sixteen.  Lad  that  I  was,  I  would  mark  with  pain  the  blush 
on  Mrs.  Manners's  cheek,  and  clinch  my  fists  as  she  tried  to 
pass  this  off  as  a  joke  of  her  husband's.  But  Dolly,  who  sat 
next  me  at  a  side  table,  would  make  a  wry  little  face  at  my 
angry  one. 

"  You  shall  call  me  '  my  lady,'  Richard.  And  sometimes,  if 
you  are  good,  you  shall  ride  inside  my  coroneted  coach  when 
you  come  home." 

Ah,  that  was  the  worsb  of  it!     The  vixen  was  conscious  of 


"IF  LADIES  BE  BUT  YOUNG  AND  FAIR*'     43 

her  beauty.  But  her  airs  were  so  natural  that  young  and  old 
bowed  before  her.  Nothing  but  worship  had  she  had  from  the 
cradle.  I  would  that  Mr.  Peale  had  painted  her  in  her  girl- 
hood as  a  type  of  our  Maryland  lady  of  quality.  Harvey  was 
right  when  he  called  her  a  thoroughbred.  Her  nose  was  of 
patrician  straightness,  and  the  curves  of  her  mouth  came  from 
generations  of  proud  ancestors.  And  she  had  blue  eyes  to 
conquer  and  subdue,  with  long  lashes  to  hide  them  under  when 
she  chose,  and  black  hair  with  blue  gloss  upon  it  in  the  slant- 
ing lights.  J  believe  I  loved  her  best  in  the  riding-habit  that 
was  the  colour  of  the  red  holly  in  our  Maryland  woods.  At 
Christmas-tide,  when  we  came  to  the  eastern  shore,  we  would 
gallop  together  through  miles  of  country,  the  farmers  and 
servants  tipping  and  staring  after  her  as  she  laid  her  silver- 
handled  whip  upon  her  pony.  She  knew  not  the  meaning  of 
fear,  and  would  take  a  fence  or  a  ditch  that  a  man  might  pause 
at.  And  so  I  fell  into  the  habit  of  leading  her  the  easy  way 
round,  for  dread  that  she  would  be  hurt. 

How  those  Christmas  times  of  childhood  come  sweeping  back 
on  my  memory  !  Often,  and  without  warning,  my  grandfather 
would  say  to  me :  "  Richard,  we  shall  celebrate  at  the  Hall 
this  year."  And  it  rarely  turned  out  that  arrangements  had 
not  been  made  with  the  Lloyds  and  the  Bordleys  and  the 
Manners,  and  other  neighbours,  to  go  to  the  country  for  the 
holidays.  I  have  no  occasion  in  these  pages  to  mention  my 
intimacy  with  the  sons  and  daughters  of  those  good  friends  of 
the  Carvels',  Colonel  Lloyd  and  Mr.  Bordley.  Some  of  them 
are  dead  now,  and  the  rest  can  thank  God  and  look  back  upon 
worthy  and  useful  lives.  And  if  any  of  these,  my  old  play 
mates,  could  read  this  manuscript,  perchance  they  might  fee. 
a  tingle  of  recollection  of  Children's  Day,  when  Maryland  was 
a  province.  We  rarely  had  snow ;  sometimes  a  crust  upon  the 
groimd  that  was  melted  into  paste  by  the  noonday  sun,  but 
more  frequently,  so  it  seems  to  me,  a  foggy,  drizzly  Christmas, 
with  the  fires  crackling  in  saloon  and  lady's  chamber.  And 
when  my  grandfather  and  the  ladies  and  gentlemen,  his  guests, 
came  down  the  curving  stairs,  there  were  the  broadly  smiling 
servants  drawn  up  in  the  wide  hall;,  —  all  who  could  gather 


44  EICHAED  CARVEL 

there,  —  and  the  rest  on  the  lawn  outside,  to  wish  "Merry 
Chris'mas"  to  "de  quality."  The  redemptioners  in  front, 
headed  by  Ivie  and  Jonas  Tree,  tho'  they  had  long  served 
their  terms,  and  with  them  old  Harvey  and  his  son ;  next  the 
house  blacks  and  the  outside  liveries,  and  then  the  oldest 
slaves  from  the  quarters.  This  line  reached  the  door,  which 
Scipio  would  throw  open  at  "de  quality's"  appearance,  dis- 
closing the  rest  of  the  field  servants,  in  bright-coloured  gowns, 
and  the  little  negroes  on  the  green.  Then  Mr.  Carvel  would 
make  them  a  little  speech  of  thanks  and  of  good-will,  and 
white-haired  Johnson  of  the  senior  quarters,  who  had  been 
with  my  great-grandfather,  would  start  the  carol  in  a  quaver. 
How  clear  and  sweet  the  melody  of  those  negro  voices  comes 
back  to  me  through  the  generations !  And  the  picture  of  the 
hall,  loaded  with  holly  and  mistletoe  even  to  the  great  arch 
that  spanned  it,  with  the  generous  bowls  of  egg-nog  and 
punch  on  the  mahogany  by  the  wall !  And  the  ladies  our 
guests,  in  cap  and  apron,  joining  in  the  swelli  g  hymn ;  ay,  and 
the  men,  too.  And  then,  after  the  breakfast  of  sweet  ham  and 
venison,  and  hot  bread  and  sausage,  made  under  Mrs.  Willis, 
and  tea  and  coffee  and  chocolate  steaming  in  the  silver,  and 
ale  for  the  gentlemen  if  they  preferred,  came  the  prayers  and 
more  carols  in  the  big  drawing-room.  And  then  music  in  the 
big  house,  or  perhaps  a  ride  afield  to  greet  the  neighbours,  and 
fiddling  and  dancing  in  the  two  big  quarters.  Hank's  and 
Johnson's,  when  the  tables  were  cleared  after  the  bountiful 
feast  Mr.  Carvel  was  wont  to  give  them.  There  was  no  stint, 
my  dears,  —  naught  but  good  cheer  and  praising  God  in  sheer 
happiness  at  Carvel  HalL 

At  night  there  was  always  a  ball,  sometimes  at  Wilmot 
House,  sometimes  at  Colonel  Lloyd's  or  Mr.  Bordley's,  and 
sometimes  at  Carvel  Hall,  for  my  grandfather  dearly  loved 
the  company  of  the  young.  He  himself  would  lead  off  the 
minuet,  —  save  when  once  or  twice  his  Excellency  Governor 
Sharpe  chanced  to  be  present,  —  and  would  draw  his  sword 
with  the  young  gallants  that  the  ladies  might  pass  under. 
And  I  have  seen  him  join  merrily  in  the  country  dances  too, 
to  the  clapping  of  hands  of  the  company.     That  wa.s  before 


"IP  LADIES   BE  BUT  YOUNG  AND  FAIR"     45 

Dolly  and  I  were  let  upon  the  floor.  We  sat  -with  the  other 
children,  our  mammies  at  our  sides,  in  the  narrow  gallery  with 
the  tiny  rail  that  ran  around  the  ball-room,  where  the  sweet 
odour  of  the  green  myrtleberry  candles  mixed  with  that  of  the 
powder  and  perfume  of  the  dancers.  And  when  the  beauty  of 
the  evening  was  led  out,  Dolly  would  lean  over  the  rail,  and 
pout  and  smile  by  turns.  The  mischievous  little  baggage 
could  hardly  wait  for  the  conquering  years  to  come. 

They  came  soon  enough,  alack!  The  season  Dorothy  was 
fourteen,  we  had  a  ball  at  the  Hall  the  last  day  of  the 
year.  When  she  was  that  age  she  had  near  arrived  at  her 
growth,  and  was  full  as  tall  as  many  young  ladies  of  twenty. 
I  had  cantered  with  her  that  morning  from  Wilmot  House  to 
Mr.  Lloyd's,  and  thence  to  Carvel  Hall,  where  she  was  to  stay 
to  dinner.  The  sun  was  shining  w^armly,  and  after  young  Har- 
vey had  taken  our  horses  we  strayed  through  the  house,  where 
the  servants  were  busy  decorating,  and  out  into  my  grand- 
father's old  English  flower  garden,  and  took  the  seat  by  the 
sundial.  I  remember  that  it  gave  no  shadow.  We  sat  silent 
for  a  while,  Dorothy  toying  with  old  Knipe,  lying  at  our  feet, 
and  humming  gayly  the  burden  of  a  minuet.  She  had  been 
flighty  on  the  ride,  with  scarce  a  word  to  say  to  me,  for  the 
prospect  of  the  dance  had  gone  to  her  head. 

"Have  you  a  new  suit  to  wear  to-night,  to  see  the  New 
Year  in,  Master  Sober?"  she  asked  presently,  looking  up. 
"  I  am  to  wear  a  brocade  that  came  out  this  autumn  from  Lon- 
don, and  papa  says  I  look  like  a  duchess  when  I  have  my 
grandmother's  pearls." 

"  Always  the  ball ! "  cried  I,  slapping  my  boots  in  a  temper. 
"Is  it,  then,  such  a  matter  of  importance?  I  am  sure  you 
have  danced  before  —  at  my  birthdays  in  Marlboro'  Street 
and  at  your  own,  and  Will  Eotheringay's,  and  I  know  not 
■how  many  others." 

"  Of  course,"  replies  Dolly,  sweetly ;  "  but  never  with  a  real 
man.  Boys  like  you  and  Will  and  the  Lloyds  do  not  count. 
Dr.  Courtenay  is  at  Wilmot  House,  and  is  coming  to-night; 
and  he  has  asked  me  out.  Think  of  it,  Eichard!  Dr. 
Courtenay ! " 


46  RICHAED  CAEVEL 

"  A  plague  upon  him !     He  is  a  fop ! " 

"A  fop!"  exclaimed  Dolly,  lier  humour  bettering  as  mine 
went  doAvn.  *'0h,  no;  you  are  jealous.  He  is  more  sought 
after  than  any  gentleman  at  the  assemblies,  and  Miss  Dulany 
vows  his  steps  are  ravishing.  There's  for  you,  my  lad !  He 
may  not  be  able  to  keep  pace  with  you  in  the  chase,  but  he 
has  writ  the  most  delicate  verses  ever  printed  in  Maryland, 
and  no  other  man  in  the  colony  can  turn  a  compliment  with 
his  grace.  Shall  I  tell  you  more  ?  He  sat  with  me  for  over 
an  hour  last  night,  until  mamma  sent  me  off  to  bed,  and  was 
very  angry  at  you  because  I  had  engaged  to  ride  with  you 
to-day." 

"And  I  suppose  you  wish  you  had  stayed  with  him,"  I 
flung  back,  hotly.  "  He  had  spun  you  a  score  of  fine  speeches 
and  a  hundred  empty  compliments  by  now." 

"  He  had  been  better  company  than  you,  sir,"  she  laughed 
provokingly.  "I  never  heard  you  turn  a  compliment  in  your 
life,  and  you  are  now  seventeen.  What  headway  do  you 
expect  to  make  at  the  assemblies  ?  " 

"  None,"  I  answered,  rather  sadly  than  otherwise.  For  she 
had  touched  me  upon  a  sore  spot.  "  But  if  I  cannot  win  a 
woman  save  by  compliments,"  I  added,  flaring  up,  "  then  may 
I  pay  a  bachelor's  tax ! " 

My  lady  drew  her  whip  across  my  knee. 

"  You  must  tell  us  we  are  beautiful,  Eichard,"  said  she,  in 
another  tone. 

"  You  have  but  to  look  in  a  pier-glass,"  I  retorted.  "  And, 
besides,  that  is  not  sufiicient.  You  will  want  some  rhyming 
couplet  out  of  a  mythology  before  you  are  content." 

She  laughed  again. 

"  Sir,"  answered  she,  "  but  you  have  wit,  if  you  can  but  be 
got  angry." 

She  leaned  over  the  dial's  face,  and  began  to  draw  the  Latin 
numerals  with  her  finger.  So  arch,  withal,  that  I  forgot  my 
ill-humour. 

"  If  you  would  but  agree  to  stay  angry  for  a  day,"  she  went 
on,  in  a  low  tone,  "  perhaps  —  " 

"  Perhaps  ?  " 


"IF  LADIES  BE  BUT   YOUNG  AND  FAIR"     47 

"Perhaps  you  would  be  better  company,"  said  Dorothy. 
*  You  would  surely  be  more  entertaining  " 

"  Dorothy,  I  love  you,"  I  said. 

"To  be  sure.  I  know  that,"  she  replied.  "I  think  you 
have  said  that  before." 

I  admitted  it  sadly.  "But  I  should  be  a  better  husband 
than  Dr.  Courtenay." 

"  La !  "  cried  she ;  "  I  am  not  thinking  of  hxisbands.  I 
shall  have  a  good  time,  sir,  I  promise  you,  before  I  marry. 
And  then  I  should  never  marry  you.  You  are  much  too  rough, 
and  too  masterful.  And  you  would  require  obedience.  I  shall 
never  obey  any  man.  You  would  be  too  strict  a  master,  sir. 
I  can  see  it  with  your  dogs  and  your  servants.  And  j^our 
friends,  too.  For  you  thrash  any  boy  who  does  not  agree  with 
you.  I  want  no  rough  squire  for  a  husband.  And  then,  you 
are  a  Whig.  I  could  never  marry  a  Whig.  You  behaved 
disgracefully  at  King  William's  School  last  year.  Don't 
deny  it ! " 

"Deny  it!"  I  cried  warmly;  "I  would  as  soon  deny  that 
you  are  an  arrant  flirt,  Dorothy  Manners,  and  will  be  a 
worse  one." 

"  Yes,  I  shall  have  my  fling,"  said  the  minx.  "  I  shall  be- 
gin to-night,  with  you  for  an  audience.  I  shall  make  the 
doctor  look  to  himself.  But  there  is  the  dressing-bell."  And 
as  we  went  into  the  house,  "  I  believe  ray  mother  is  a  Whig, 
Richard.     All  the  Brices  are." 

"  And  yet  you  are  a  Tory  ?  " 

"I  am  a  loyalist,"  says  my  lady,  tossing  her  head  proudly; 
"and  we  are  one  day  to  kiss  her  IMajesty's  hand,  and  tell  her 
so.  And  if  I  were  the  Queen,"  she  finished  in  a  flash,  "I 
■would  teach  you  surly  gentlemen  not  to  meddle." 

And  she  swept  up  the  stairs  so  stately,  that  Scipio  was 
moved  to  say  slyly :  "  Dem's  de  kind  of  ladies,  Marse  Richard, 
I  jes  dotes  t'  wait  on ! " 

Of  the  affair  at  King  William's  School  I  shall  tell  later. 

We  had  some  dozen  guests  staying  at  the  Hall  for  the  ball. 
At  dinner  my  grandfather  and  the  gentlemen  twitted  her,  and 
laughed  heartily  at  her  apt  retorts,  and  even  toasted  her  when 


4S  RICHARD   CARVEL 

she  was  gone.  The  ladies  shook  their  heads  and  nudged  one 
another,  and  no  doubt  each  of  the  mothers  had  her  notion  of 
what  she  would  do  in  Mrs.  Manners's  place.  But  when  my 
lady  came  down  dressed  for  the  ball  in  her  pink  brocade  with 
the  pearls  around  her  neck,  fresh  from  the  hands  of  Hester  and 
those  of  her  own  tremulous  mamm}^,  Mr.  Carvel  must  needs 
go  up  to  her  and  hold  her  at  arm's  length  in  admiration,  and 
then  kiss  her  on  both  her  cheeks.  Whereat  she  blushed  right 
prettily. 

"  Bless  me ! "  says  he ;  "  and  can  this  be  Richard's  little 
playmate  grown?  Upon  my  word,  Miss  Dolly,  you'll  be  the 
belle  of  the  ball.  Eh,  Lloyd  ?  Bless  me,  bless  me,  you  must 
not  mind  a  kiss  from  an  old  man.  The  young  ones  may 
have  their  turn  after  a  while."  He  laughed  as  my  grandfather 
only  could  laugh,  and  turned  to  me,  who  had  reddened  to  my 
forehead.  "  And  so,  Richard,  she  has  outstripped  you,  fair 
and  square.  You  are  only  an  awkward  lad,  and  she  —  why, 
i'  faith,  in  two  years  she'll  be  beyond  my  protection.  Come, 
Miss  Dolly,"  says  he;  "I'll  show  you  the  mistletoe,  that  you 
may  beware  of  it." 

And  he  led  her  off  on  his  arm.  "  The  old  year  and  the  new, 
gentlemen ! "  he  cried  merrily,  as  he  passed  the  door,  with 
Dolly's  mammy  and  Hester  simpering  with  pride  on  the 
landing. 

The  company  arrived  in  coach  and  saddle,  many  having 
come  so  far  that  they  were  to  stay  the  night.  Young  Mr. 
Beall  carried  his  bride  on  a  pillion  behind  him,  her  red  riding- 
cloak  flung  over  her  ball  dress.  Mr.  Bordley  and  family  came 
m  his  barge,  Mr,  Marmaduke  and  his  wife  in  coach  and  four. 
With  them  was  Dr.  Courtenay,  arrayed  in  peach-coloured  coat 
and  waistcoat,  with  black  satin  breeches  and  white  silk  stock- 
ings, and  pinchbeck  buckles  asparkle  on  his  shoes.  How  I 
envied  him  as  he  descended  the  stairs,  stroking  his  ruffles  and 
greeting  the  company  with  the  indifferent  ease  that  was  then 
the  fashion.  I  fancied  I  saw  his  eyes  wander  among  the 
ladies,  and  not  marking  her  he  crossed  over  to  where  I  stood 
disconsolate  before  the  fireplace. 

"Why,  Richard,  my  lad,"  says  he,  "you  are  quite  grown 


"IF   LADIES   BE   BUT   YOUNG   AND  FAIR"     49 

since  I  saw  you.  And  the  little  girl  that  was  your  playmate, 
—  Miss  Dolly,  I  mean,  —  has  outstripped  me,  egad.  She  has 
become  suddenly  une  belle  demoiselle,  like  a  rose  that  blooms  in 
a  night." 

I  answered  nothing  at  all.  But  I  had  given  much  to  know 
whether  my  stolid  manner  disconcerted  him.  Unconsciously 
I  sought  the  bluff  face  above  the  chimney,  depicted  in  all  its 
ruggedness  by  the  painter  of  King  Charles's  day,  and  contrasted 
with  the  bundle  of  finery  at  my  side.  Dr.  Courtenay  certainly 
caught  the  look.  He  opened  his  snuff-box,  took  a  pinch,  turned 
on  his  heel,  and  sauntered  off. 

"  What  did  you  say,  Richard  ? "  asked  Mr.  Lloyd,  coming 
up  to  me,  laughing,  for  he  had  seen  the  incident. 

"  I  looked  merely  at  the  man  of  Marston  Moor,  sir,  and  said 
nothing." 

"Faith,  'twas  a  better  answer  than  if  you  had  used  your 
tongue,  I  think,"  answered  my  friend.  But  he  teased  me  a 
deal  that  night  when  Dolly  danced  with  the  doctor,  and  my 
grandfather  bade  me  look  to  my  honours.  My  young  lady 
flung  her  head  higher  than  ever,  and  made  a  minuet  as  well 
as  any  dame  upon  the  floor,  while  I  stood  very  glum  at  the 
thought  of  the  prize  slipping  from  my  grasp.  Now  and  then, 
in  the  midst  of  a  figure,  she  Avould  shoot  me  an  arch  glance, 
as  much  as  to  say  that  her  pinions  were  strong  now.  But 
when  it  came  to  the  country  dances  my  lady  comes  up  to  me 
ever  so  prettily  and  asks  the  favour. 

"  'Tis  a  monstrous  state,  indeed,  when  I  have  to  beg  you  for  a 
reel ! "  says  she. 

And  so  was  I  made  happy. 


CHAPTER  VI 

1   FIRST   SUFFER   FOR   THE   CAUSE 

In  the  eighteenth  century  the  march  of  public  events  was 
much  more  eagerly  followed  than  now  by  men  and  women  of 
all  stations,  and  even  children.  Each  citizen  was  ready,  nay, 
forward,  in  taking  an  active  part  in  all  political  movements, 
and  the  children  mimicked  their  elders.  Old  William  Farris 
read  his  news  of  a  morning  before  he  began  the  mending  of 
his  watches,  and  by  evening  had  so  well  digested  them  that 
he  was  primed  for  discussion  with  Pryse,  of  the  opposite  per- 
suasion, at  the  Rose  and  Crown.  Sol  Mogg,  the  sexton  of 
St.  Anne's,  had  his  beloved  Gazette  in  his  pocket  as  he  tolled 
the  church  bell  of  a  Thursday,  and  would  hold  forth  on  the 
rights  and  liberties  of  man  with  the  carpenter  who  mended  the 
steeple.  Mrs.  Willard  could  talk  of  Grenville  and  Townshend 
as  knowingly  as  her  husband,  the  rich  factor,  and  Francie 
Willard  made  many  a  speech  to  us  younger  Sons  of  Liberty 
on  the  steps  of  King  William's  School.  We  younger  sons, 
indeed,  declared  bitter  war  against  the  mother-country  long 
before  our  conservative  old  province  ever  dreamed  of  seces- 
sion. For  Maryland  was  well  pleased  with  his  Lordship's 
government. 

I  fear  that  I  got  at  King  William's  School  learning  of  a  far 
different  sort  than  pleased  my  grandfather.  In  those  days  the 
school  stood  upon  the  Stadt  House  hill  near  School  Street,  not 
aaving  moved  to  its  present  larger  quarters.  Mr.  Isaac  Daaken 
was  then  Master,  and  had  under  him  some  eighty  scholars. 
After  all  these  years,  Mr.  Daaken  stands  before  me  a  promi- 
nent figure  of  the  past  in  an  ill-fitting  suit  of  snuff  colour. 
How  well  I  recall  that  schoolroom  of  a  bright  morning,  the 

50 


I  FIRST   SUFFER  FOR   THE   CAUSE  51 

sun's  rays  shot  hither  and  thither,  and  split  violet,  green,  and 
ted  by  the  bulging  glass  panes  of  the  windows.  And  by  a 
strange  irony  it  so  chanced  that  where  the  dominie  sat  —  and 
he  moved  not  the  whole  morning  long  save  to  reach  for  his 
birches  —  the  crimson  ray  would  often  rest  on  the  eiid  of  his 
long  nose,  and  the  word  "  rum  "  be  passed  tittering  along  the 
benches.  For  some  men  are  born  to  the  mill,  and  others  to 
the  mitre,  and  still  others  to  the  sceptre ;  but  Mr.  Daakeu  was 
born  to  the  birch.  His  long,  lanky  legs  were  made  for  strid- 
ing after  culprits,  and  his  arms  for  caning  them.  He  taught, 
among  other  things,  the  classics,  of  course,  the  English  language 
grammatically,  arithmetic  in  all  its  branches,  book-keeping  in 
the  Italian  manner,  and  the  elements  of  algebra,  geometry,  and 
trigonometry  with  their  applications  to  surveying  and  naviga- 
tion. He  also  wrote  various  sorts  of  hands,  fearful  and  mar- 
vellous to  the  uninitiated,  with  which  he  was  wont  to  decorate 
my  monthly  reports  to  my  grandfather.  I  can  shut  my  eyes 
a.nd  see  now  that  wonderful  hyperbola  in  the  C  in  Carvel, 
which,  after  travelling  around  the  paper,  ended  in  intricate 
curves  and  a  flourish  which  surely  must  have  broken  the  quill. 
The  last  day  of  every  month  would  I  fetch  that  scrolled  note 
to  Mr.  Carvel,  and  he  laid  it  beside  his  plate  until  dinner  was 
over.  And  then,  as  sure  as  the  sun  rose  that  morning,  my 
flogging  would  come  before  it  set.  This  done  with,  and  an- 
other promised  next  month  provided  l\Ir.  Daaken  wrote  no 
better  of  me,  my  grandfather  and  I  renewed  our  customary 
footing  of  love  and  companionship. 

But  Mr.  Daaken,  unwittingly  or  designedly,  taught  other 
things  than  those  I  have  mentioned  above.  And  though  I 
never  once  heard  a  word  of  politics  fall  from  his  lips,  his 
school  shortly  became  known  to  all  good  Tories  as  a  nursery 
of  conspiracy  and  sedition.  There  are  other  ways  of  teaching 
besides  preaching,  and  of  that  which  the  dominie  taught  best 
he  spoke  not  a  word.  He  was  credited,  you  may  well  believe, 
with  calumnies  against  King  George,  and  once  my  Uncle 
Grafton  and  Mr,  Dulany  were  for  clapping  him  in  jail,  avow- 
ing that  he  taught  treason  to  the  young.  I  can  account  for 
the  tone  of  King  William's  School  in  no  other  way  than  to  say 


52  RICHAEI)  CARVEL 

tliat  patriotism  was  in  the  very  atmosphere,  and  seemed  tc 
exude  in  some  mysterious  way  from  Mr.  Daaken's  person. 
And  most  of  us  became  infected  with  it. 

The  dominie  lived  outside  the  town,  in  a  lonely  little  hamlet 
on  the  borders  of  the  Spa.  At  two  of  the  clock  every  after- 
Duon  he  would  dive  through  School  Street  to  the  Coffee  House, 
where  the  hostler  would  have  liis  bony  mare  saddled  and  wait- 
ing. Mr.  Daaken  by  no  chance  ever  entered  the  tavern.  I 
recall  one  bright  day  in  April  when  I  played  truant  and  had 
the  temerity  to  go  afishing  on  Spa  Creek  with  Will  Fother- 
ingay,  the  bass  being  plentiful  there.  We  had  royal  sport  of 
it  that  morning,  and  two  o'clock  came  and  went  with  never  a 
thought,  you  may  be  sure.  And  presently  I  get  a  pull  which 
bends  my  English  rod  near  to  double,  and  in  my  excitement 
plunge  waist  deep  into  the  water.  Will  crying  out  directions 
from  the  shore,  when  suddenly  ths  head  of  Mr.  Daaken's  mare 
is  thrust  through  the  bushes,  followed  by  Mr.  Daaken  himself. 
Will  stood  stock  still  from  fright,  and  I  was  for  dropping  my 
rod  and  cutting,  when  I  was  arrested  by  the  dominie  calling 
out :  — 

"Have  a  care,  Master  Carvel;  have  a  care,  sir.  You  will 
lose  him.     Play  him,  sir ;  let  him  run  a  bit." 

And  down  he  leaps  from  his  horse  and  into  the  water  after 
me,  and  together  we  landed  a  three-pound  bass,  thereby  drench- 
ing his  snuff-coloured  suit.  When  the  big  fish  lay  shining  in 
the  basket,  the  dominie  smiled  grimly  at  William  and  me  as 
we  stood  sheejjishly  by,  and  without  a  word  he  drew  his  clasp 
knife  and  cut  a  stout  switch  from  the  willow  near,  and  then 
and  there  he  gave  us  such  a  thrashing  as  we  remembered  for 
many  a  day  after.  And  we  both  had  another  when  we  reached 
home. 

"  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  Mr.  Dulany  to  my  grandfather,  "  I  would 
strongly  counsel  you  to  take  Richard  from  that  school.  Per- 
nicious doctrines,  sir,  are  in  the  air,  and  like  diseases  are  early 
caught  by  the  young.  'Twas  but  yesterday  I  saw  Richard  at 
the  head  of  a  rabble  of  the  sons  of  riff-raff,  in  Green  Street, 
and  their  treatment  of  Mr.  Eairbrother  hath  set  the  whole 
town  by  the  ears." 


I  FIRST   ttUFFER   FOR   THE   CAUSK  63 

What  Mr.  Dulany  had  said  was  true.  The  lads  of  Mr.  Fair- 
brother's  school  being  mostly  of  the  unpopular  party,  we  of 
King  William's  had  organized  our  cohorts  and  led  them  on  to 
a  signal  victory.  We  fell  upon  the  enemy  even  as  they  were 
emerging  from  their  stronghold,  the  schoolhouse,  and  smote 
them  hip  and  thigh,  with  the  sheriff  of  Anne  Arundel  County 
a  laughing  spectator.  Some  of  the  Tories  (for  such  we  were 
pleased  to  call  them)  took  refuge  behind  Mr.  Fairbrother's 
skirts,  who  shook  his  cane  angrily  enough,  but  without  avail. 
Others  of  the  Tory  brood  fought  stoutly,  calling  out :  "  God 
save  the  King ! "  and  "  Down  with  the  traitors ! "  On  our  side 
Francie  Willard  fell,  and  Archie  Jennison  raised  a  lump  on 
my  head  the  size  of  a  goose  egg.  But  we  fairly  beat  them, 
and  afterwards  must  needs  attack  the  Tory  dominie  himself. 
He  cried  out  lustily  to  the  sheriff  and  spectators,  of  whom 
there  were  many  by  this  time,  for  help,  but  got  little  but 
laughter  for  his  effort.  Young  Lloj^d  and  I,  being  large  lads 
for  our  age,  fairly  pinioned  the  screeching  master,  who  cried 
out  that  he  was  being  murdered,  and  keeping  his  cane  for  a 
trophy,  thrust  him  bodily  into  his  house  of  learning,  turned 
the  great  key  upon  him,  and  so  ieft  him.  He  made  his  escape 
by  a  window  and  sougiit  my  grandfather  in  the  Duke  of 
Marlboro'  Street  as  fast  as  ever  his  indignant  legs  would 
carry  him. 

Of  his  interview  with  Mr.  Carvel  I  know  nothing  save  that 
Scipio  was  requested  presently  to  show  him  the  door,  and  con- 
i3lude  therefrom  that  his  language  was  but  ill-chosen.  Scipio's 
patrician  blood  was  wont  to  rise  in  the  presence  of  those  whom 
he  deemed  outside  the  pale  of  good  society,  and  I  fear  he 
ushered  Mr.  Fairbrother  to  the  street  with  little  of  that  supe- 
rior manner  he  used  to  the  first  families.  As  for  Mr.  Daaken, 
I  feel  sure  he  was  not  ill-pleased  at  the  discomfiture  of  his 
rival,  though  it  cost  him  five  of  his  scholars. 

Our  schoolboy  battle,  though  lightly  undertaken,  was  fraught 
with  no  inconsiderable  consequences  for  me.  I  was  duly  chided 
■^nd  soundly  whipped  by  my  grandfather  for  the  part  I  had 
played ;  but  he  was  inclined  to  pass  the  matter  after  that,  and 
set  it  down  to  the  desire  for  fighting  common  to  most  boyish 


54  EICHARD  CARVEL 

natures.  And  he  would  have  gone  no  farther  than  this  had  it 
not  been  that  Mr.  Green,  of  the  Maryland  Gazette,  could  not 
refrain  from  printing  the  story  in  his  paper.  That  gentleman, 
being  a  stout  Whig,  took  great  delight  in  pointing  out  that  a 
grandson  of  Mr.  Carvel  was  a  ringleader  in  the  aifair.  The 
story  was  indeed  laughable  enough,  and  many  a  barrister's  wig 
nodded  over  it  at  the  Coffee  House  that  day.  When  I  came 
home  from  school  I  found  Scipio  beside  my  grandfather's 
empty  seat  in  the  dining-room,  and  I  learned  that  Mr.  Carvel 
was  in  the  garden  with  my  Uncle  Grafton  and  the  Reverend 
Bennett  Allen,  rector  of  St.  Anne's.  I  well  knew  that  some- 
thing out  of  the  common  was  in  the  wind  to  disturb  my  grand- 
father's dinner.  Into  the  garden  I  went,  and  under  the  black 
walnut  tree  I  beheld  Mr.  Carvel  pacing  up  and  down  in  great 
unrest,  his  Gazette  in  his  hand,  while  on  the  bench  sat  my 
uncle  and  the  rector  of  St.  Anne's.  So  occupied  was  each  in 
his  own  thought  that  my  coming  was  unperceived;  and  I 
paused  in  my  steps,  seized  suddenly  by  an  instinctive  dread, 
I  know  not  of  what.  The  fear  of  Mr.  Carvel's  displeasure 
passed  from  my  mind  so  that  I  cared  not  how  soundly  he 
thrashed  me,  and  my  heart  filled  with  a  yearning,  born  of  the 
instant,  for  that  simple  and  brave  old  gentleman.  For  the  lad 
is  nearer  to  nature  than  the  man,  and  the  animal  oft  scents 
a  danger  the  master  cannot  see.  I  read  plainly  in  Mr.  Allen's 
handsome  face,  flushed  red  with  wine  as  it  ever  was,  and  in 
my  Uncle  Grafton's  looks  a  snare  to  which  I  knew  my  grand- 
father was  blind.  I  never  rightly  understood  how  it  was  that 
Mr.  Carvel  was  deceived  in  Mr.  Allen ;  perchance  the  secret 
lay  in  his  bold  manner  and  in  the  appearance  of  dignity  and 
piety  he  wore  as  a  cloak  when  on  his  guard.  I  caught  my 
breath  sharply  and  took  my  way  toward  them,  resolved  to 
make  as  brave  a  front  as  I  might.  It  was  my  uncle,  whose 
ear  was  ever  open,  that  first  heard  my  footstep  and  turned 
upon  me. 

"  Here  is  Richard,  now,  father,"  he  said. 

I  gave  him  so  square  a  look  that  he  bent  his  head  to  the 
ground.  My  grandfather  stopped  in  his  pacing  and  his  eye 
rested  upon  ma,  in  sorrow  rather  than  in  anger,  I  thought. 


I  FIEST   SUFFER  FOR  THE  CAUSE  55 

"  Richard,"  he  began,  and  paused.  For  the  first  time  in  my 
life  I  saw  him  irresolute.  He  looked  appealingly  at  the  rector, 
who  rose.  Mr.  Allen  was  a  man  of  good  height  and  broad 
shoulders,  with  piercing  black  eyes,  reminding  one  more  of  the 
umallsword  than  aught  else  I  can  think  of.  And  he  spoke 
solemnly,  in  a  deep  voice,  as  though  from  the  pulpit. 

''  I  fear  it  is  my  duty,  Richard,  to  say  what  Mr.  Carvel  can- 
not. It  grieves  me  to  tell  you,  sir,  that  young  as  you  are  you 
have  been  guilty  of  treason  against  the  King,  and  of  grave 
offence  against  his  Lordship's  government.  I  cannot  mitigate 
my  words,  sir.  By  your  rashness,  Richard,  and  I  pray  it  is 
such,  you  have  brought  grief  to  your  grandfather  iix  his  age, 
and  ridicule  and  reproach  upon  a  family  whose  loyalty  has 
hitherto  been  unstained." 

I  scarce  waited  for  him  to  finish.  His  pompous  words  stung 
me  like  the  lash  of  a  whip,  and  I  gave  no  heed  to  his  cloth  as 
I  answered :  — 

"  If  I  have  grieved  my  grandfather,  sir,  I  am  heartily  sorry, 
and  will  answer  to  him  for  what  I  have  done.  And  I  would 
have  you  know,  Mr.  Allen,  that  I  am  as  able  as  any  to  care  for 
the  Carvel  honour." 

I  spoke  with  a  vehemence,  for  the  thought  carried  me  beyond 
myself,  that  this  upstart  parson  his  Lordship  had  but  a  year 
since  sent  among  us  should  question  our  family  reputation. 

"  Remember  that  Mr.  Allen  is  of  the  Church,  Richard,"  said 
my  grandfather,  severely. 

"  I  fear  he  has  little  respect  for  Church  or  State,  sir,"  Graf- 
ton put  in.  "  You  are  now  reaping  the  fruits  of  your  indul- 
gence." 

I  turned  to  my  grandfather. 

"  You  are  my  protector,  sir,"  I  cried.  "  And  if  it  please  you 
to  tell  me  what  I  now  stand  accused  of,  I  submit  most  duti- 
fully to  your  chastisement." 

"  Very  fair  words,  indeed,  nephew  Richard,"  said  my  ancle> 
"and  I  draw  from  them  that  you  have  yet  to  hear  of  your 
beating  an  honest  schoolmaster  without  other  provocation  than 
that  he  was  a  loyal  servant  to  the  King,  and  wantonly  injuring 
the  children  of  his  school."     He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  copy 


56  EICHAED   CARVEL 

of  that  Gazette  Mr.  Carvel  held  in  his  hand,  and  added  iront 
cally :  "  Here,  then,  are  news  which  will  doubtless  surprise  you, 
sir.  And  knowing  you  for  a  peaceful  lad,  never  having  enter- 
tained such  heresies  as  those  with  which  it  pleases  Mr.  Green 
to  credit  you,  I  dare  swear  he  has  drawn  on  his  imagination." 

I  took  the  paper  in  amaze,  not  knowing  why  my  grandfather, 
who  had  ever  been  so  jealous  of  others  taking  me  to  task,  should 
permit  the  rector  and  my  uncle  to  chide  me  in  his  presence. 
The  account  was  in  the  main  true  enough,  and  made  sad  sport 
of  Mr.  Fairbrother. 

"  Have  I  not  been  caned  for  this,  sir  ?  "  said  I  to  my  grand- 
father. 

These  words  seemed  to  touch  Mr.  Carvel,  and  I  saw  a  tear 
glisten  in  his  eye  as  he  answered :  — 

"You  have,  Richard,  and  stoutly.  But  your  uncle  and 
Mr.  Allen  seem  to  think  that  your  offence  warrants  more 
than  a  caning,  and  to  deem  that  you  have  been  actuated  by 
bad  principles  rather  than  by  boyish  spirits."  He  paused  to 
steady  his  voice,  and  I  realized  then  for  the  first  time  how 
sacred  he  held  allegiance  to  the  King.  "  Tell  me,  my  lad," 
said  he,  "  tell  me,  as  you  love  God  and  the  truth,  whether  they 
are  right." 

For  the  moment  I  shrank  from  speaking,  perceiving  what  a 
sad  blow  to  Mr.  Carvel  my  words  must  be.  And  then  I  spoke 
up  boldly,  catching  the  exulting  sneer  on  my  Uncle  Grafton's 
face  and  the  note  of  triumph  reflected  in  Mr.  Allen's. 

"  I  have  never  deceived  you,  sir,"  I  said,  "  and  will  not  now 
hide  from  you  that  I  believe  the  colonies  to  have  a  just  cause 
against  his  Majesty  and  Parliament."  The  words  came  ready 
to  my  lips:  "We  are  none  the  less  Englishmen  because  we 
claim  the  rights  of  Englishmen,  and,  saving  your  presence,  sir, 
are  as  loyal  as  those  who  do  not.  And  if  these  principles  be 
bad,"  I  added  to  my  uncle,  "  then  should  we  think  with  shame 
upon  the  Magna  Charta." 

My  grandfather  stood  astonished  at  such  a  speech  from  me, 
whom  he  had  thought  a  lad  yet  without  a  formed  knowledge 
of  public  affairs.  But  I  was,  in  fact,  supersaturated  with  that 
of  which  I  spoke,  and  could  have  given  my  hearers  many  able 


I  FIRST   SUFFER  FOR  THE  CAUSE  57 

Whig  arguments  to  surprise  them  had  the  season  befitted 
There  was  silence  for  a  space  after  I  had  finished,  and  then 
Mr.  Carvel  sank  right  heavily  upon  the  bench. 

'^  A  Carvel  against  the  King ! "  was  all  he  said. 

Had  I  been  alone  with  him  I  should  have  cast  myself  at  his 
feet,  for  it  hurt  me  sorely  to  see  him  so.  As  it  was,  I  held  my 
head  high. 

"The  Carvels  ever  did  what  they  believed  right,  sir,"  I 
answered.  "You  would  not  have  me  to  go  against  my  con 
science  ?  " 

To  this  he  replied  nothing. 

"  The  evil  has  been  done,  as  I  feared,  father,"  said  Grafton, 
presently;  "we  must  now  seek  for  the  remedy." 

"Let  me  question  the  lad,"  Mr.  Allen  softly  interposed, 
"Tell  me,  Richard,  who  has  influenced  you  to  this  way  oi 
thinking  ?  " 

I  saw  his  ruse,  and  was  not  to  be  duped  by  it. 

"  Men  who  have  not  feared  to  act  bravely  against  oppression, 
sir,"  I  said. 

"  Thank  God,"  exclaimed  my  uncle,  with  fervour, "  that  I  have 
been  more  careful  of  Philip's  associations,  and  that  he  has  not 
caught  in  the  streets  and  taverns  this  noxious  creed ! " 

"  There  is  no  danger  from  Philip ;  he  remembers  his  family 
name,"  said  the  rector. 

"No,"  quoth  Mr.  Carvel,  bitterly,  "there  is  no  danger  from 
Philip.  Like  his  father,  he  will  ever  believe  that  which  best 
serves  him." 

Grafton,  needless  to  say,  did  not  pursue  such  an  argument, 
but  rising,  remarked  that  this  deplorable  affair  had  kept  him 
long  past  his  dinner  hour,  and  that  his  services  were  as  ever  at 
his  father's  disposal.  He  refused  to  stay,  though  my  grand- 
f ath  3r  pressed  him  of  course,  and  with  a  low  bow  of  filial  re- 
spect and  duty  and  a  single  glance  at  the  rector,  my  uncle  was 
gone.  And  then  we  walked  slowly  to  the  house  and  into  the 
dining  room,  Mr.  Carvel  leading  the  procession,  and  I  an  un- 
willing rear,  knowing  that  my  fate  would  be  decided  between 
them.  I  thought  Mr.  Allen's  grace  would  never  end,  and  the 
meal  likewise ;  I  ate  but  little,  while  the  two  gentlemen  dis* 


58  RICHARD  CARVEL 

cussed  parish  matters.  And  when  at  last  Scipio  had  retired, 
and  the  rector  of  St.  Anne's  sat  sipping  the  old  Madeira,  his 
countenance  all  gravity,  but  with  a  relish  he  could  not  hide, 
my  grandfather  spoke  up.  And  though  he  addressed  himself 
to  the  guest,  I  knew  full  well  what  he  said  was  meant  for  me. 

"  As  you  see,  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  am  sore  perplexed  and 
troubled.  We  Carvels,  Mr.  Allen,  have  ever  been  stanch  to 
Church  and  King.  My  great-gran dsire  fought  at  Naseby  and 
Marston  Moor  for  Charles,  and  suffered  exile  in  his  name. 
'Twas  love  for  King  James  that  sent  my  father  hither,  though 
he  swore  allegiance  to  Anne  and  the  First  George.  I  can  say 
with  pride  that  he  was  no  indifferent  servant  to  either,  re- 
fusing honours  from  the  Pretender  in  '15,  when  he  chanced  to 
be  at  home.  An  oath  is  an  oath,  sir,  and  we  have  yet  to  be 
false  to  ours.  And  the  King,  say  I,  should,  next  to  God,  be 
loved  and  loyally  served  by  his  subjects.  And  so  I  have 
served  this  George,  and  his  grandfather  before  him,  according 
to  the  talents  which  were  given  me." 

"And  ably,  sir,  permit  me  to  say,"  echoed  the  rector,  heart- 
ily. Too  heartily,  methought.  And  he  carefully  filled  his 
pipe  with  choice  leaf  out  of  Mr.  Carvel's  inlaid  box. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  have  done  my  best,  as  we  must  all  do. 
Pardon  me,  sir,  for  speaking  of  myself.  But  I  have  brought 
up  this  lad  from  a  child,  Mr.  Allen,"  said  Mr.  Carvel,  his  words 
coming  slowly,  as  if  each  gave  him  pain,  "  and  have  striven  to 
be  an  example  to  him  in  all  things.  He  has  few  of  those  faults 
which  I  most  fear ;  God  be  thanked  that  he  loves  the  truth, 
for  there  is  yet  a  chance  of  his  correction.  A  chance,  said  I  ?  " 
he  cried,  his  speech  coming  more  rapid,  " nay,  he  shall  be  cured! 
I  little  thought,  fool  that  I  was,  that  he  would  get  this  pox. 
His  father  fought  and  died  for  the  King ;  and  should  trouble 
come,  which  God  forbid,  to  know  that  Richard  stood  against 
his  Majesty  would  kill  me." 

"  And  well  it  might,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  the  divine.  He  was 
for  the  moment  sobered,  as  weak  men  must  be  in  the  presence 
of  those  of  strong  convictions.  My  grandfather  had  half  risen 
in  his  chair,  and  the  lines  of  his  smooth -shaven  face  deepened 
visibly  with  the  pain  of  the  feelings  to  which  he  gave  utter- 


I  FIRST   SUFFER  FOR   THE   CAUSE  59 

auce.  As  for  me,  I  was  well-nigh  swept  away  by  a  bigness 
within  me,  and  torn  between  love  and  duty,  between  pity  and 
the  reason  left  me,  and  sadly  tried  to  know  whether  my  dear 
parent's  life  and  happiness  should  be  weighed  against  what  1 
felt  to  be  right.     I  strove  to  speak,  but  could  say  nothing. 

"He  must  be  removed  from  the  influences,"  the  rector  ven- 
tured, after  a  halt. 

"  That  he  must  indeed,"  said  my  grandfather.  "  Why  did  I 
not  send  him  to  Eton  last  fall  ?  But  it  is  hard,  Mr.  Allen,  to 
part  with  the  child  of  our  old  age.  I  would  take  passage  and 
go  myself  with  him  to-morrow  were  it  not  for  my  duties  in  the 
Council." 

Eton !  I  would  have  sooner,  I  believe,  wrought  by  the  side 
of  any  rascally  redemptioner  in  the  iron  mines  of  the  Patapsco 
than  have  gone  to  Eton. 

"  But  for  the  present,  sir,  I  would  counsel  you  to  put  the  lad's 
studies  in  the  charge  of  some  able  and  learned  man,  that  his 
mind  may  be  turned  fijom  the  disease  which  has  fed  upon  it. 
Some  one  whose  loyalty  is  beyond  question." 

"  And  who  so  fit  as  yourself,  Mr.  Allen  ? "  returned  my 
grandfather,  relief  plain  in  his  voice.  "  You  have  his  Lord- 
ship's friendship  and  confidence,  and  never  has  rector  of  St. 
Anne's  or  of  any  other  parish  brought  letters  to  his  Excellency 
to  compare  with  yours.  And  so  I  crave  your  help  in  this  time 
of  need." 

Mr.  Allen  showed  becoming  hesitjttion. 

"  I  fear  you  do  me  greater  honour  than  I  deserve,  Mr.  Carvel," 
he  answered,  a  strain  of  the  pomp  coming  back,  "  though  my 
gracious  patron  is  disposed  to  think  well  of  me,  and  I  shall 
strive  to  hold  his  good  opinion.  But  I  have  duties  of  parish 
and  glebe  to  attend,  and  Master  Philip  Carvel  likewise  in  my 
charge." 

I  held  my  breath  for  my  grandfather's  reply.  The  rector, 
however,  had  read  him,  and  well  knew  that  a  show  of  reluc- 
tance would  but  inflame  him  the  more. 

"  How  now,  sir  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Surely,  as  you  love  the 
King,  you  will  not  refuse  me  in  this  strait." 

Mr.  Allen  rose  and  grasped  him  by  the  hand. 


60  KICHARD   CAEVEL 

"  Nay,  sir,"  said  he,  "  and  you  put  it  thus,  I  cannot  refuse 
you." 

The  thought  of  it  was  too  much.  I  ran  to  my  grandfather 
crying :  "  Not  Mr.  Allen,  sir,  not  Mr.  Allen.  Any  one  else  you 
please,  —  Mr.  Fairbrother  even." 

The  rector  drew  back  haughtily.     "  It  is  clear,  Mr.  Carvel,' 
he  said,  "that  Richard  has  other  preferences." 

''  And  be  damned  to  them ! "  shouted  my  grandfather.  "Am 
I  to  be  ruled  by  this  headstrong  boy  ?  He  has  beat  Mr. 
Fairbrother,  and  shall  have  no  skimmed-milk  supervision  if  1 
can  help  it." 

And  so  it  was  settled  that  I  should  be  tutored  by  the  rector 
of  St.  Anne's,  and  I  took  my  seat  beside  my  cousin  Philip  in 
his  study  the  very  next  day. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GRAFTON   HAS   HIS   CHANCE 

To  add  to  my  troubles  my  grandfather  was  shortly  taken 
very  ill  with  the  first  severe  sickness  he  had  ever  in  his  life 
endured.  Dr.  Leiden  came  and  went  sometimes  thrice  daily, 
and  for  a  week  he  bore  a  look  so  grave  as  to.  frighten  me.  Dr. 
Evarts  arrived  by  horse  from  Philadelphia,  and  the  two  physi- 
cians held  long  conversations  in  the  morning  room,  while  I  lis- 
tened at  the  door  and  comprehended  not  a  word  of  their  talk 
save  when  they  spoke  of  bleeding.  And  after  a  very  few  con- 
sultations, as  is  often  the  way  in  their  profession,  they  disagreed 
and  quarrelled,  and  Dr.  Evarts  packed  himself  back  to  Phila- 
delphia in  high  dudgeon.     Then  Mr.  Carvel  began  to  mend. 

There  were  many  who  came  regularly  to  inquire  of  him,  and 
each  afternoon  I  would  see  the  broad  shoulders  and  genial  face 
of  Governor  Sharpe  in  the  gateway,  completing  his  walk  by 
way  of  Marlboro'  Street.  I  loved  and  admired  him,  for  he 
had  been  a  soldier  himself  before  he  came  out  to  us,  and  had 
known  and  esteemed  my  father.  His  Excellency  should  surely 
have  been  knighted  for  his  services  in  the  French  war.  Once 
he  spied  me  at  the  window  and  shook  his  cane  pleasantly,  and 
in  he  walks  to  the  room  where  I  sat  reading  of  the  victories 
of  Blenheim  and  Malplaquet,  for  chronicles  of  this  sort  1 
delighted  in. 

"  Aha,  Eichard,"  says  he,  taking  up  the  book,  "  'tis  plain 
whither  your  tastes  lead  you.  Marlboro'  was  a  grea*--  gen- 
eral, and  as  sorry  a  scoundrel  as  ever  led  troops  to  battle. 
Truly,"  says  he,  musing,  "  the  Lord  often  makes  queer  choice 
in  his  instruments  for  good."  And  he  lowered  himself  into 
the  easy  chair  and  crossed  his  legs,  regarding  me  very  comi- 

61 


62  RICHARD   CARVEL 

cally.  "  What's  this  I  hear  of  your  joining  the  burghers  and 
barristers,  and  trouncing  poor  Mr.  Fairbrother  and  his  flock^ 
and  crying  '  Liberty  forever ! '  in  the  very  ears  of  the  law  ?  "  he 
asks.  "  His  Majesty  will  have  need  of  such  lads  as  you,  I  make 
no  doubt,  and  should  such  proceedings  come  to  his  ears  I  would 
not  give  a  pipe  for  your  chances." 

I  could  not  but  laugh,  confused  as  I  was,  at  his  Excellency's 
rally.  And  this  I  may  say,  that  had  it  pleased  Providence  to 
give  me  dealing  with  such  men  of  the  King's  side  as  he,  per- 
chance my  fortunes  had  been  altered. 

"  And  in  any  good  cause,  sir,"  I  replied,  "  I  would  willingly 
give  my  life  to  his  Majesty." 

"So,"  said  his  Excellency,  raising  his  eyebrows,  "I  see 
clearly  you  are  of  ihe  rascals.  But  a  lad  must  have  his  fancies, 
and  when  your  age  I  was  hot  for  the  exiled  Prince.  I  acquired 
more  sense  as  I  grew  older.  And  better  an  active  mind,  say  I, 
than  a  sluggard  partisan." 

At  this  stage  of  our  talk  came  in  my  Uncle  Grafton,  and 
bowing  low  to  the  Governor  made  apology  that  some  of  the 
elders  of  the  family  had  not  been  there  to  entertain  him.  He 
told  his  Excellency  that  he  had  never  left  the  house  save  for 
necessary  business,  which  was  true  for  once,  my  uncle  having 
taken  up  his  abode  with  us  during  that  week.  But  now,  thank- 
ing Heaven  and  Dr.  Leiden  and  his  own  poor  effort,  he  could 
report  his  dear  father  to  be  out  of  danger. 

Governor  Sharpe  answered  shortly  that  he  had  been  happy 
to  hear  the  good  news  from  Scipio.  "  Faith,"  says  he,  "  I  was 
well  enough  entertained,  for  I  have  a  liking  for  this  lad,  and 
to  speak  truth  I  saw  him  here  as  I  came  up  the  walk." 

My  uncle  smiled  deprecatingly,  and  hid  any  vexation  he 
might  have  had  from  this  remark. 

"  I  fear  that  Richard  lacks  wisdom  as  yet,  your  Excellency," 
said  he,  "  and  has  many  of  his  father's  headstrong  qualities." 

"Which  you  most  providentially  escaped,"  his  Excellency 
put  in. 

Grafton  bit  his  lip.  "  Necessity  makes  us  all  careful,  sir," 
said  he. 

"Necessity  does  more  than  that,  Mr.  Carvel,"  returned  the 


GEAFTON   HAS   HIS  CHANCE  63 

Governor,  who  was  something  of  a  wit ;  "  necessity  often  makes 
us  fools,  if  we  be  not  careful.  But  give  me  ever  a  wanton  fool 
rather  than  him  of  necessity's  handiwork.  And  as  for  the 
Jad,"  says  he,  "  let  him  not  trouble  you.  Such  as  he,  if  twisted 
a  little  in  the  growth,  come  out  straight  enough  in  the  end." 

I  think  the  Governor  little  knew  what  wormwood  was  this 
to  my  uncle. 

"  'Tis  heartily  to  be  hoped,  sir,"  he  said,  "  for  his  folly  has 
brought  trouble  enough  behind  it  to  those  who  have  his  educa- 
tion and  his  welfare  in  hand,  and  I  make  no  doubt  is  at  the 
bottom  of  my  father's  illness." 

At  this  injustice  I  could  not  but  cry  out,  for  all  the  town 
knew,  and  my  grandfather  himself  best  of  all,  that  the  trouble 
from  which  he  now  suffered  sprang  from  his  gout.  And  yet 
my  heart  was  smitten  at  the  thought  that  I  might  have  has- 
tened or  aggravated  the  attack.  The  Governor  rose.  He 
seized  his  stick  aggressively  and  looked  sharply  at  Grafton. 

"Nonsense,"  he  exclaimed;  "  my  friend  Mr.  Carvel  is  far  too 
wise  to  be  upset  by  a  boyish  prank  which  deserves  no  notice 
save  a  caning.  And  that,  my  lad,"  he  added  lightly,  "  I  dare 
swear  you  got  with  interest."  And  he  called  for  a  glass  of  the 
old  Madeira  when  Scipio  came  with  the  tray,  and  departed 
with  a  polite  inquiry  after  my  Aunt  Caroline's  health,  and  a 
prophecy  that  Mr.  Carvel  would  soon  be  taking  the  air  again. 

There  had  been  high  doings  indeed  in  Marlboro'  Street 
that  miserable  week.  My  grandfather  took  to  his  bed  of  a 
Saturday  afternoon,  and  bade  me  go  down  to  Mr.  Aikman's, 
the  bookseller,  and  fetch  him  the  latest  books  and  plays.  That 
night  I  became  so  alarmed  that  I  sent  Diomedes  for  Dr.  Leiden, 
who  remained  the  night  through.  Sunday  was  well  gone  before 
the  news  reached  York  Street,  when  my  Aunt  Caroline  came 
hurrying  over  in  her  chair,  and  my  uncle  on  foot.  They 
brushed  past  Scipio  at  the  door,  and  were  pushing  up  the  long 
flight  when  they  were  stopped  on  the  landing  by  Dr.  Leiden. 

"  How  is  my  father,  sir  ?  "  Grafton  cried,  "  and  why  was  I 
not  informed  at  once  of  his  illness  ?     I  must  see  him." 

"  Your  vater  can  see  no  one,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  the  doctor, 
quietly. 


64  EICHAED   CAEVEL 

"  Wtiat,"  says  my  uncle,  "  you  dare  to  refuse  me  ? ' 

"Not  so  lout,  I  bray  you,"  says  the  doctor;  "I  tare  any 
ting  vere  life  is  concerned." 

"  But  I  will  see  him,"  says  Grafton,  in  a  sort  of  helpless  rage, 
for  the  doctor's  manner  baffled  him.  "  I  will  see  him  before 
he  dies,  and  no  man  alive  shall  say  me  nay." 

Then  my  Aunt  Caroline  gathered  up  her  skirt,  and  made 
shift  to  pass  the  doctor. 

"  I  have  come  to  nurse  him,"  said  she,  imperiously,  and,  turn- 
ing to  where  I  stood  near,  she  added :  "  Bid  a  servant  fetch 
from  York  Street  what  I  shall  have  need  of." 

The  doctor  smiled,  but  stood  firm.  He  cared  little  for  aught 
in  heaven  or  earth,  did  Dr.  Leiden,  and  nothing  whatever  for 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grafton  Carvel. 

"I  peg  you,  matam,  do  not  disturp  yourself,"  said  he.  "Mr. 
Carvel  is  aply  attended  by  an  excellent  voman,  Mrs.  Villis, 
and  he  has  no  neet  of  you." 

"What,"  cried  my  aunt;  "this  is  too  much,  sir,  that  I  am 
thrust  out  of  my  father-in-law's  house,  and  my  place  taken  by 
a  menial.  That  woman  able!"  she  fumed,  dropping  suddenly 
her  cloak  of  dignity ;  "  Mr.  Carvel's  charity  is  all  that  keeps  her 
here." 

Then  my  uncle  drew  himself  up.  "Dr.  Leiden,"  says  he, 
"  kindly  oblige  me  by  leaving  my  father's  house,  and  consider 
your  services  here  at  an  end.  And  Eichard,"  he  goes  on  to 
me,  "  send  my  compliments  to  Dr.  Drake,  and  request  him  to 
come  at  once." 

I  was  stepping  forward  to  say  that  I  would  do  nothing  of 
the  kind,  when  the  doctor  stopped  me  by  a  signal,  as  much  as 
to  say  that  the  quarrel  was  wide  enough  without  me.  He 
stood  with  his  back  against  the  great  arched  window  flooded 
with  the  yellow  light  of  the  setting  sun,  a  little  black  figure  in 
high  relief,  with  a  face  of  parchment.  And  he  took  a  pinch  of 
snuff  before  he  spoke. 

"  I  am  here  py  Mr.  Carvel's  orters,  sir,"  said  he,  "  and  py 
tose  alone  vill  I  leaf." 

And  this  is  how  the  Chippendale  piece  was  broke,  which 
you,  my   children,  and  especially  Bess,   admire   so   extrava/- 


GRAFTON  HAS  HIS  CHAKCE         65 

gantly.  It  stood  that  day  behind  the  doctor,  and  my  uncle, 
making  a  violent  move  to  get  by,  struck  it,  and  so  it  fell  with. 
a  great  crash  lengthwise  on  the  landing;  and  the  wonderful 
vases  Mr.  Carroll  had  given  my  grandfather  rolled  down  the 
stairs  and  lay  crushed  at  the  bottom.  Withal  he  had  spoken 
so  quietly,  Dr.  Leiden  possessed  a  temper  drawn  from  his  Teu- 
tonic ancestors.  With  his  little  face  all  puckered,  he  swore  so 
roundly  at  my  uncle  in  some  lingo  he  had  got  from  his  father, 
—  High  German  or  Low  German,  —  I  know  not  what,  that 
Grafton  and  his  wife  were  glad  enough  to  pick  their  way 
amongst  the  broken  bits  of  glass  and  china,  to  the  hall  again. 
Dr.  Leiden  shook  his  list  at  their  retreating  persons,  saying  that 
the  Sabbath  was  no  day  to  do  murder. 

I  followed  them  with  the  pretence  of  picking  up  what  was 
left  of  the  ornaments.  What  between  anger  against  the  doctor 
and  Mrs.  Willis,  and  fright  and  chagrin  at  the  fall  of  the  Chip- 
pendale piece,  my  aunt  was  in  such  a  state  of  nervous  flurry 
that  she  bade  the  ashy  Scipio  call  her  chairmen,  and  vowed,  in 
a  trembling  voice,  she  would  never  again  enter  a  house  where 
that  low-bred  German  was  to  be  found.  But  my  Uncle  Graf  ten 
was  of  a  different  nature.  He  deemed  defeat  but  a  postpone- 
ment of  the  object  he  wished  to  gain,  and  settled  himself  in  the 
library  with  a  copy  of  "  Miller  on  the  Distinction  of  Ranks  in 
Society."  He  appeared  at  supper  suave  as  ever,  gravely  con- 
cerned as  to  his  father's  health,  which  formed  the  chief  topic 
between  us.  He  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  would  take 
the  green  room  until  the  old  gentleman  was  past  danger.  Not 
a  word,  mind  you,  of  Dr.  Leiden,  nor  did  my  uncle  express  a 
wish  to  go  into  the  sick-room,  from  which  even  I  was  forbid. 
Nay,  the  next  morning  he  met  the  doctor  in  the  hall  and  con- 
versed with  him  at  somt,  length  over  the  case  as  though  nothing 
had  occurred  between  them. 

While  my  Uncle  Grafton  was  in  the  house  I  had  opportunity 
of  marking  the  intimacy  which  existed  betAveen  him  and  the 
rector  of  St.  Anne's.  The  latter  swung  each  evening  the 
muffled  knocker,  and  was  ushered  on  tiptoe  across  the  polished 
floor  to  the  library  where  my  uncle  sat  in  state.  It  was  often 
after  supper  before  the  rector  left,  and  coming  in  upon  them 


66  KICHAED   CAKVEL 

once  I  found  wine  between  them  and  empty  decanters  on  the 
board,  and  they  fell  silent  as  I  passed  the  doorway. 

Our  dear  friend  Captain  Clapsaddle  was  away  when  my 
grandfather  fell  sick,  having  been  North  for  three  months  or 
more  on  some  business  known  to  few.  'Twas  generally  sup- 
posed he  went  to  Massachusetts  to  confer  with  the  patriots  of 
that  colony.  Hearing  the  news  as  he  rode  into  town,  he  came 
booted  and  spurred  to  Marlboro'  Street  before  going  to  his 
lodgings.  I  ran  out  to  meet  him,  and  he  threw  his  arms  about 
me  on  the  street  so  that  those  who  were  passing  smiled,  for  all 
knew  the  captain.  And  Harvey,  who  always  came  to  take  the 
captain's  horse,  swore  that  he  was  glad  to  see  a  friend  of  the 
family  once  again.  I  told  the  captain  very  freely  of  my  doings, 
and  showed  him  the  clipping  from  the  Gazette,  which  made 
him  laugh  heartily.  But  a  shade  came  upon  his  face  when  I 
rehearsed  the  scene  we  had  with  my  uncle  and  Mr.  Allen  in 
the  garden. 

"  What,"  says  he,  "  Mr.  Carvel  hath  sent  you  to  Mr.  Allen 
on  your  uncle's  advice  ?  " 

"No,"  I  answered,  "to  do  my  uncle  justice,  he  said  not  a 
word  to  Mr.  Carvel  about  it." 

The  captain  turned  the  subject.  He  asked  me  much  con- 
cerning the  rector  and  what  he  taught  me,  and  appeared  but 
ill-pleased  at  that  I  had  to  tell  him.  But  he  left  me  without 
so  much  as  a  word  of  comment  or  counsel.  For  it  was  a  prin- 
ciple with  Captain  Clapsaddle  not  to  influence  in  any  way  the 
minds  of  the  young,  and  he  would  have  deemed  it  unfair  to 
Mr.  Carvel  had  he  attempted  to  win  my  sympathies  to  his. 
Captain  Daniel  was  the  first  the  old  gentleman  asked  to  see 
when  visitors  were  permitted  him,  and  you  may  be  sure  the 
faithful  soldier  was  below  stairs  waiting  for  the  summons. 

I  was  some  three  weeks  with  my  new  tutor,  the  rector,  before 
my  grandfather's  illness,  and  went  back  again  as  soon  as  he 
began  to  mend.  I  was  not  altogether  unhappy,  owing  to  a 
certain  grim  pleasure  I  had  in  debating  with  him,  which  I  shall 
presently  relate.  There  was  much  to  annoy  and  anger  me,  too. 
My  cousin  Philip  was  forever  carping  and  criticising  my  Greek 
and  Latin,  and  it  was  impossible  not  to  feel  his  sneer  at  my 


GRAFTON   HAS   HIS   CHANCE  67 

back  when  I  construed.  He  had  pat  replies  ready  to  correct 
me  when  called  upon,  and  'twas  only  out  of  consideration  for  Mr. 
Carvel  that  I  kept  my  hands  from  him  when  we  were  dismissed. 

I  think  the  rector  disliked  Philip  in  his  way  as  much  as  did 
I  in  mine.  The  Reverend  Bennett  Allen,  indeed,  might  have 
been  a  very  good  fellow  had  Providence  placed  him  in  a  dif- 
ferent setting;  he  was  one  of  those  whom  his  Excellency 
dubbed  "fools  from  necessity."  He  should  have  been  born 
with  a  fortune,  though  I  can  think  of  none  he  would  not  have 
run  through  in  a  year  or  so.  But  nature  had  given  him  aristo- 
cratic tastes,  with  no  other  means  toward  their  gratification 
than  good  looks,  convincing  ways,  and  a  certain  bold,  half- 
defiant  manner,  v/hich  went  far  with  his  Lordship  and  those 
like  him,  who  thought  Mr.  Allen  excellent  good  company. 
With  the  rector,  as  with  too  many  others,  holy  orders  were  but 
a  means  to  an  end.  It  was  a  sealed  story  what  he  had  been 
before  he  came  to  Governor  Sharpe  with  Baltimore's  directions 
to  give  him  the  best  in  the  colony.  But  our  rakes  and  wits, 
and  even  our  solid  men,  like  my  grandfather,  received  him 
with  open  arms.  He  had  ever  a  tale  on  his  tongue's  end 
tempered  to  the  ear  of  his  listener. 

Who  had  most  influenced  my  way  of  thinking,  Mr.  Allen 
had  well  demanded.  The  gentleman  was  none  other  than  Mr. 
Henry  Swain,  Patty's  father.  Of  her  I  shall  speak  later. 
He  was  a  rising  barrister  and  man  of  note  among  our  patriots, 
and  member  of  the  Lower  House;  a  diffident  man  in  public, 
with  dark,  soulful  eyes,  and  a  wide,  white  brow,  who  had 
declined  a  nomination  to  the  Congress  of  '65.  At  his  fire- 
side, unknoAvn  to  my  grandfather  and  to  Mr.  Allen,  I  had 
learned  the  true  principles  of  government.  Before  the  House 
Mr.  Swain  spoke  only  under  extraordinary  emotion,  and  then 
he  gained  every  ear.  He  had  been  my  friend  since  childhood, 
but  I  never  knew  the  meaning  and  the  fire  of  oratory  until 
curiosity  brought  me  to  the  gallery  of  the  Assembly  chamber 
in  the  Stadt  House,  where  the  barrister  was  on  his  feet  at  the 
time.  I  well  remember  the  tingle  in  my  chest  as  I  looked  and 
listened.  And  I  went  again  and  again,  until  the  House  sat 
behind  closed  doors. 


68  EICHAED   CARVEL 

And  so,  when  Mr.  Allen  brought  forth  for  my  benefit  those 
arguments  of  the  King's  party  which  were  deemea  their  strength, 
I  would  confront  him  with  Mr.  Swain's  logic.  He  had  in  me  a 
tough  subject  for  conversion.  I  was  put  to  very  small  pains 
to  rout  my  instructor  out  of  all  his  positions,  because  indo- 
lence, and  lack  of  interest  in  the  question,  and  contempt  for 
the  Americans,  had  made  him  neglect  the  study  of  it.  And 
Philip,  who  entered  at  first  glibly  enough  at  the  rector's  side, 
was  soon  drawn  into  depths  far  beyond  him.  Many  a  time 
was  Mr.  Allen  fain  to  laugh  at  his  blunders.  I  doubt  not  my 
cousin  had  the  facts  straight  enough  when  he  rose  from  the 
breakfast  table  at  home ;  but  by  the  time  he  reached  the  rec- 
tory they  were  shaken  up  like  so  many  parts  of  a  puzzle  in  a 
bag,  and  past  all  straightening. 

The  rector  was  especially  bitter  toward  the  good  people  of 
Boston  Town,  whom  he  dubbed  Puritan  fanatics.  To  him  Mr. 
Otis  was  but  a  meddling  fool,  and  Mr.  Adams  a  traitor  whose 
head  only  remained  on  his  shoulders  by  grace  of  the  extreme 
clemency  of  his  Majesty,  which  Mr.  Allen  was  at  a  loss  to 
understand.  When  beaten  in  argument,  he  would  laugh  out 
some  sneer  that  would  set  my  blood  simmering.  One  morning 
he  came  in  late  for  the  lesson,  smelling  strongly  of  wine,  and 
bade  us  bring  our  books  out  under  the  fruit  trees  in  the  gar- 
den. He  threw  back  his  gown  and  tilted  his  cap,  and  lighting 
his  pipe  began  to  speak  of  that  act  of  Townshend's,  passed  but 
the  year  before,  which  afterwards  proved  the  King's  folly  and 
England's  ruin. 

"  Principle !  "  exclaimed  my  fine  clergyman  at  length,  blow- 
ing a  great  whiff  among  the  white  blossoms.  ''Oons!  your 
Americans  worship  his  Majesty  stamped  upon  a  golden  coin. 
And  though  he  saved  their  tills  from  plunder  from  the  French, 
the  miserly  rogues  are  loth  to  pay  for  the  service." 

I  rose,  and  taking  a  guinea-piece  from  my  pocket,  held  it 
up  before  him. 

*'  They  care  this  much  for  gold,  sir,  and  less  for  his  Majesty, 
who  cares  nothing  for  them,"  I  said.  And  walking  to  the  well 
near  by,  I  dropped  the  piece  carelessly  into  the  clear  water. 
Jle  was  beside  me  before  it  left  my  hand,  and  Philip  also,  in 


GRAFTOIi   HAS  HIS   CHANCE  69 

time  to  see  the  yellow  coin  edging  tliis  way  and  that  toward 
the  bottom.  The  rector  turned  to  me  with  a  smile  of  cynical 
amusement  playing  over  his  features. 

"  Such  a  spirit  has  brought  more  than  one  brave  fellow  to 
Tyburn,  Master  Carvel,"  he  said.  And  then  he  added  reflec- 
tively, "  But  if  there  were  more  like  you,  we  might  well  have 
cause  for  alarm." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

OVEK   THE   WALL 

Dorothy  treated  me  ill  enough  that  spring.  Since  the  minx 
had  tasted  power  at  Carvel  Hall,  there  was  no  accounting  for 
her.  On  returning  to  town  Dr.  Courtenay  had  begged  her 
mother  to  allow  her  at  the  assemblies,  a  request  which  Mrs. 
Manners  most  sensibly  refused.  Mr.  Marmaduke  had  given 
his  consent,  I  believe,  for  he  was  more  impatient  than  Dolly 
for  the  days  when  she  would  become  the  toast  of  the  province. 
But  the  doctor  contrived  to  see  her  in  spite  of  difficulties,  and 
Will  Fotheringay  was  forever  at  her  house,  and  half  a  dozen 
other  lads.  And  many  gentlemen  of  fashion  like  the  doctor 
called  ostensibly  to  visit  Mrs.  Manners,  but  in  reality  to  see 
Miss  Dorothy.  And  my  lady  knew  it.  She  would  be  linger- 
ing in  the  drawing-room  in  her  best  bib  and  tucker,  or  strolling 
in  the  garden  as  Dr.  Courtenay  passed,  and  I  got  but  scant 
attention  indeed.  I  was  but  an  awkward  lad,  and  an  old  play- 
mate, with  no  novelty  about  me. 

"  Why,  Eichard,"  she  would  say  to  me  as  I  rode  or  walked 
ceside  her,  or  sat  at  dinner  in  Prince  George  Street,  "  I  know 
every  twist  and  turn  of  your  nature.  There  is  nothing  you 
could  do  to  surprise  me.     And  so,  sir,  you  are  very  tiresome." 

"■  You  once  found  mb  useful  enough  to  fetch  and  carry,  and 
amusing  when  I  walked  the  Oriole's  bowsprit,"  I  replied 
ruefully. 

"  Why  don't  you  make  me  jealous  ?  "  says  she,  stamping  her 
foot.  "  A  score  of  pretty  girls  are  languishing  for  a  glimpse 
of  you,  —  Jennie  and  Bess  Fotheringay,  and  Betty  Tayloe, 
and  Heaven  knows  how  many  others.  They  are  actually  accus- 
ing me  of  keeping  you  trailing.     '  La,  girls  ! '  said  I,  '  if  you 

2U 


OVER   THE   WALL  71 

will  but  rid  me  of  him  for  a  day,  yon  shall  have  my  lasting 
gratitude.'  " 

And  she  turned  to  the  spinet  and  began  a  lively  air.  But 
the  taunt  struck  deeper  than  she  had  any  notion  of.  That 
spring  arrived  out  from  London  on  the  Belle  of  the  Wye  a  box 
of  fine  clothes  my  grandfather  had  commanded  for  me  from 
his  own  tailor ;  and  a  Avoi'd  from  a  maid  of  lifteen  did  more  to 
make  me  wear  them  than  any  amount  of  coaxing  from  Mr. 
Allen  and  my  Uncle  Grafton.  My  uncle  seemed  in  particular 
anxious  that  I  should  make  a  good  appearance,  and  reminded 
me  that  I  should  dress  as  became  the  heir  of  the  Carvel  house. 
I  took  counsel  with  Patty  Swain,  and  then  went  to  see  Betty 
Tayloe,  and  the  Fotheriugay  girls,  and  the  Dulany  girls,  near 
the  Governor's.  And  (fie  upon  me !)  I  was  not  ill-pleased  with 
the  brave  appearance  I  made.  I  would  show  my  mistress  how 
little  I  cared.  But  the  worst  of  it  was,  the  baggage  seemed 
to  trouble  less  than  I,  and  had  the  effrontery  to  tell  me  how 
happy  she  was  I  had  come  out  of  my  shell,  and  broken  loose 
from  her  apron-strings. 

"  Indeed,  they  would  soon  begin  to  think  I  meant  to  marry 
you,  Richard,"  says  she  at  supper  one  Sunday  before  a  table- 
ful, and  laughed  with  the  rest. 

"  They  do  not  credit  you  with  such  good  sense,  my  dear," 
says  her  mother,  smiling  kindly  at  me. 

And  Dolly  bit  her  lip,  and  did  not  join  in  that  part  of  the 
merriment. 

I  fled  to  Patty  Swain  for  counsel,  nor  was  it  the  first  time  in 
my  life  I  had  done  so.  Some  good  women  seem  to  have  been 
put  into  this  selfish  world  to  comfort  and  advise.  After  Prince 
George  Street  with  its  gilt  and  marbles  and  stately  hedged 
gardens,  the  low-beamed,  vine-covered  house  in  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester  Street  was  a  home  and  a  rest.  In  my  eyes  there 
was  not  its  equal  in  Annapolis  for  beauty  within  and  without. 
Mr.  Swain  had  bought  the  dwelling  from  an  aged  man  with  a 
history,  dead  some  nine  years  back.  Its  furniture,  for  the  most 
part,  was  of  the  Restoration,  of  simple  and  massive  oak  black- 
ened by  age,  which  I  ever  fancied  better  than  the  Frenchy 
baubles  of  tables  and  chairs  with  spindle  legs,  and  cabinets  oi 


72  EICHARD   CARVEL 

glass  and  gold  lacquer  which  were  then  making  their  way  into 
the  fine  mansions  of  our  town.  The  house  was  full  of  twists 
and  turns,  and  steps  up  and  down,  and  nooks  and  passages  and 
queer  hiding-places  which  we  children  knew,  and  in  parts  queer 
leaded  windows  of  bulging  glass  set  high  in  the  wall,  and  older 
than  the  reign  of  Hanover,  Here  was  the  shrine  of  cleanliness, 
whose  high-priestess  was  Patty  herself.  Her  floors  were  like 
satin-wood,  and  her  brasses  lights  in  themselves.  She  had 
come  honestly  enough  by  her  gifts,  her  father  having  married 
the  daughter  of  an  able  townsman  of  Salem,  in  the  Massachu- 
setts colony,  when  he  had  gone  north  after  his  first  great  suc- 
cess in  court.  Now  the  poor  lady  sat  in  a  padded  armchair 
from  morning  to  night,  beside  the  hearth  in  winter^  and  under 
the  trees  in  summer,  by  reason  of  a  fall  she  had  had.  There 
she  knitted  a'l  the  day  long.  Her  placid  face  and  quiet  way 
come  before  me  as  I  write. 

My  friendship  with  Patty  had  begun  early.  One  autumn 
day  when  I  was  a  little  lad  of  eight  or  nine,  my  grandfather 
and  I  were  driving  back  from  Whitehall  in  the  big  coach,  when 
we  spied  a  little  maid  of  six  by  the  Severn's  bank,  with  her 
apron  full  of  chestnuts.  She  was  trudging  bravely  through 
the  dead  leaves  toward  the  town.  Mr.  Carvel  pulled  the  cord 
to  stop,  and  asked  her  name.  "Patty  Swain,  and  it  please 
your  honour,"  the  child  answered,  without  fear.  "  So  you  are 
the  young  barrister's  daughter  ?  "  says  he,  smiling  at  something 
I  did  not  understand.  She  nodded.  "  And  how  is  it  you  are 
so  far  from  home,  and  alone,  my  little  one  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Carvel 
again.  For  some  time  he  could  get  nothing  out  of  her ;  but  at 
length  she  explained,  with  much  coaxing,  that  her  big  brother 
Tom  had  deserted  her.  My  grandfather  wished  that  Tom  were 
his  brother,  that  he  might  be  punished  as  he  deserved.  He 
commanded  young  Harvey  to  lift  the  child  into  the  coach, 
chestnuts  and  all,  and  there  she  sat  primly  between  us.  She 
was  not  as  pretty  as  Dorothy,  so  I  thought,  but  her  clear  gray 
eyes  and  simple  ways  impressed  me  by  their  very  honesty,  as 
they  did  Mr.  Carvel.  What  must  he  do  but  drive  her  home  to 
Green  Street,  where  Mr.  Swain  then  lived  in  a  little  cottage. 
Mr.  Carvel  himself  lifted  her  out  and  kissed  her,  and  handed 


OVER  THE   WALL  73 

her  to  her  mother  at  the  gate,  who  was  vastly  overcome  by  the 
circumstance.  The  good  lady  had  not  then  received  that  fall 
which  made  her  a  cripple  for  life.  "  And  will  you  not  have 
my  chestnuts,  sir,  for  your  kindness?"  says  little  Patty. 
Whereat  my  grandfather  laughed  and  kissed  her  again,  for  he 
loved  children,  and  wished  to  know  if  she  would  not  be  his 
daughter,  and  come  to  live  in  Marlboro'  Street;  and  told  the 
story  of  Tom,  for  fear  she  would  not.  He  was  silent  as  we 
drove  away,  and  I  knew  he  was  thinking  of  my  own  mother 
at  that  age. 

Not  long  after  this  Mr.  Swain  bought  the  house  in  the  Duke 
of  Gloucester  Street.  This,  as  you  know,  is  back  to  back  with 
Marlboro'.  To  reach  Patty's  garden  I  had  but  to  climb  the 
brick  wall  at  the  rear  of  our  grounds,  and  to  make  my  way 
along  the  narrow  green  lane  left  there  for  perhaps  a  hundred 
paces  of  a  lad,  to  come  to  the  gate  in  the  wooden  paling.  In 
return  I  used  to  hoist  Patty  over  the  wall,  and  we  would  play 
at  children's  games  under  the  fruit  trees  that  skirted  it.  Some 
instinct  kept  her  away  from  the  house.  I  often  caught  her 
gazing  wistfully  at  its  wings  and  gables.  She  was  not  born  to 
a  mansion,  so  she  said. 

"But  your  father  is  now  rich,"  I  objected.  I  had  heard 
Captain  Daniel  say  so.  "He  may  have  a  mansion  of  his  own 
and  he  chooses.  He  can  better  afford  it  than  many  who  are  in 
debt  for  the  fine  show  they  make."  I  was-  but  repeating 
gossip. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  grand  company  come  in,  when  your 
grandfather  has  them  to  dine,"  said  the  girl.  "  Sometimes  we 
have  grand  gentlemen  come  to  see  father  in  their  coaches,  but 
they  talk  of  nothing  but  politics.  We  never  have  any  fine 
ladies  like — like  your  Aunt  Caroline." 

I  startled  her  by  laughing  derisively. 

"And  I  pray  you  never  may,  Patty,"  was  all  I  said. 

I  never  told  Dolly  of  my  intimacy  with  the  barrister's  little 
girl  ov^'V  the  wall.  This  was  not  because  I  was  ashamed  of 
the  friendship,  but  arose  from  a  fear — well-founded  enough — ■ 
that  she  would  make  sport  of  it.  At  twelve  Dolly  had  notions 
concerning  the  walks  of  life  that  most  other  children  never 


71  RICHARD  CARVEL 

dream  of.  They  were  derived,  of  course,  from  Mr.  Marmaduke. 
But  the  day  of  reckoning  arrived.  Patty  and  I  were  romping 
beside  the  back  wall  when  suddenly  a  stiff  little  figure  in  a 
starched  frock  appeared  through  the  trees  in  the  direction  of 
the  house,  followed  by  Master  Will  Fotheringay  in  his  visiting 
clothes.  I  laugh  now  when  I  think  of  that  formal  meeting  be- 
tween the  two  little  ladies.  There  was  no  time  to  hoist  Miss  Swain 
over  the  wall,  or  to  drive  Miss  Manners  back  upon  the  house. 
Patty  stood  blushing  as  though  caught  in  a  guilty  act,  while  she 
of  the  Generations  came  proudly  on.  Will  sniggering  behind  her. 

"  Who  is  this,  Richard  ? "  asks  Miss  Manners,  pointing  a 
small  forefinger. 

"  Patty  Swain,  if  you  must  know ! "  I  cried,  and  added  boy- 
like :  "  And  she  is  just  as  good  as  you  or  me,  and  better."  I 
was  quite  red  in  the  face,  and  angry  because  of  it.  "  This  is 
Dorothy  Manners,  Patty,  and  Will  Fotheringay." 

The  moment  was  a  pregnant  one.  But  I  was  resolved  to 
carry  the  matter  out  with  a  bold  front.  "  Will  you  join  us  at 
catch  and  swing  ?  "  I  asked. 

Will  promptly  declared  that  he  would  join,  for  Patty  was 
good  to  look  upon.  Dolly  glanced  at  her  dress,  tossed  her 
head,  and  marched  back  alone. 

"  Oh,  Richard ! "  cried  Patty ;  "  I  shall  never  forgive  myself ! 
I  have  made  you  qiiarrel  with  — " 

"  His  sweetheart,"  said  Will,  wickedly. 

"I  don't  care,"  said  I.     Which  was  not  so. 

Patty  felt  no  resentment  for  my  miss's  haughty  conduct,  but 
only  a  tearful  penitence  for  having  been  the  cause  of  a  strife 
between  us.  Will's  arguments  and  mine  availed  nothing.  I 
must  lift  her  over  the  wall  again,  and  she  went  home.  When 
we  reached  the  garden  we  found  Dolly  seated  beside  her  mother 
on  my  grandfather's  bench,  from  which  stronghold  our  com- 
bined tactics  were  powerless  to  drag  her. 

When  Dolly  was  gone,  I  asked  my  grandfather  in  great  in- 
dignation why  Patty  did  not  play  with  the  children  I  knew, 
with  Dorothy  and  the  Fotheringays.  He  shook  his  head  dubi- 
ously. ''When  you  <ire  older,  Richard,  you  will  understand 
that  our  social  ranks  are  cropped  close.     Mr.  Swain  is  an  honest 


OVER   THE   WALL  75 

and  an  able  man,  though  he  believes  in  things  I  do  not.  I  hear 
he  is  becoming  wealthy.  And  I  have  no  doubt,"  the  shrewd 
old  gentleman  added,  "  that  when  Patty  grows  up  she  will  be 
going  to  the  assemblies,  though  it  was  not  so  in  my  time."  So 
liberal  was  he  that  he  used  to  laugh  at  my  lifting  her  across 
the  wall,  and  in  his  leisure  delight  to  listen  to  my  accounts  of 
her  childish  housekeeping.  Her  life  was  indeed  a  contrast  to 
Dorothy^s.  She  had  all  the  solid  qualities  that  my  lady  lacked 
in  early  years.  And  yet  I  never  wavered  in  my  liking  to  the 
more  brilliant  and  wayward  of  the  two.  The  week  before  my 
next  birthday,  when  Mr.  Carvel  drew  me  to  him  and  asked  me 
what  I  wished  for  a  present  that  year,  as  was  his  custom,  I 
said  promptly :  — 

"I  should  like  to  have  Patty  Swain  at  my  party,  sir." 

"  So  you  shall,  my  lad,"  he  cried,  taking  his  snuff  and  eying 
me  with  pleasure.  "  I  am  glad  to  see,  Richard,  that  you  have 
none  of  Mr.  Marmaduke's  nonsense  about  you.  She  is  a  good 
girl,  i'  faith,  and  more  of  a  lady  now  than  many  who  call 
themselves  such.  And  you  shall  have  your  present  to  boot. 
Hark'ee,  Daniel,"  said  he  to  the  captain;  "if  the  child  comes 
to  my  house,  the  poll-parrots  and  follow-me-ups  will  be  wanting 
her,  too." 

But  the  getting  her  to  go  was  a  matter  of  five  days.  For 
Patty  was  sensitive,  like  her  father,  and  dreaded  a  slight.  Not 
so  with  Master  Tom,  who  must  needs  be  invited,  too.  He 
arrived  half  an  hour  ahead  of  time,  arrayed  like  Solomon,  and 
without  his  sister !  I  had  to  go  for  Patty,  indeed,  after  the 
party  had  begun,  and  to  get  the  key  to  the  wicket  in  the  wall 
to  take  her  in  that  way,  so  shy  was  she.  My  dear  grandfather 
showed  her  particular  attention.  And  Miss  Dolly  herself,  being 
in  the  humour,  taught  her  a  minuet. 

After  that  she  came  to  all  my  birthdays,  and  lost  some  of 
her  shyness.  And  was  invited  to  other  great  houses,  even  as 
Mr.  Carvel  had  predicted.  But  her  chief  pleasure  seemed  ever 
her  duty.  Whether  or  no  such  characters  make  them  one  and 
the  same,  who  can  tell  ?  She  became  the  light  of  her  father's 
house,  and  used  even  to  copy  out  his  briefs,  at  which  task  1 
often  found  her  of  an  evening. 


76  RICHARD   CARVEL 

As  for  Tom,  that  graceless  scamp,  I  never  could  stomach 
him,  I  wondered  then,  as  I  have  since,  how  he  was  the  brothei 
of  such  a  sister.  He  could  scarce  bide  his  time  until  Mr.  Swain 
should  have  a  coach  and  a  seat  in  the  country  with  the  gentry. 
"  A  barrister,"  quoth  he,  "  is  as  good  as  any  one  else.  And  if 
my  father  came  out  a  redemptioner,  and  worked  his  way,  so 
had  old  Mr.  So  and  So.  Our  family  at  home  was  the  equal  of 
his."  All  of  which  was  true,  and  more.  He  would  deride 
Patty  for  sewing  and  baking,  vowing  that  they  had  servants 
enough  now  to  do  the  work  twice  over.  She  bore  with  him 
with  a  patience  to  be  marvelled  at ;  and  I  could  never  get  it 
through  my  head  why  Mr.  Swain  indulged  hiirv,  though  he  was 
the  elder,  and  his  mother's  favourite.  Tom  began  to  dress 
early.  His  open  admiration  was  Dr.  Courtenay,  his  confessed 
hope  to  wear  five-pound  ruffles  and  gold  sword  knots.  He 
clung  to  Will  Fotheringay  with  a  tenacity  that  became  pro- 
verbial among  us  boys,  and  his  boasts  at  King  William's  School 
were  his  father's  growing  wealth  and  intimacy  with  the  great 
men  of  the  province. 

As  I  grew  older,  I  took  the  cue  of  political  knowledge,  as  I 
have  said,  from  Mr.  Swain  rather  than  Captain  Daniel,  who 
would  tell  me  nothing.  I  fell  into  the  habit  of  taking  supper 
in  Gloucester  Street.  The  meal  was  early  there.  And  when 
the  dishes  were  cleared  away,  and  the  barrister's  pipe  lit,  and 
Patty  and  her  mother  had  got  their  sewing,  he  would  talk  by 
the  hour  on  the  legality  of  our  resistance  to  the  King,  and  dis- 
cuss the  march  of  affairs  in  England  and  the  other  colonies. 
He  found  me  a  ready  listener,  and  took  pains  to  teach  me 
clearly  the  right  and  wrong  of  the  situation.  'Twas  his  reli- 
gion, even  as  loyalty  to  the  King  was  my  grandfather's,  and 
he  did  not  think  it  wrong  to  spread  it.  He  likewise  instilled 
into  me  m  that  way  more  of  history  than  Mr.  Allen  had  ever 
taught  me,  using  it  to  throw  light  upon  this  point  or  that. 
But  I  never  knew  his  true  power  and  eloquence  until  I  fol- 
sowed  him  to  the  Stadt  House. 

Patty  was  grown  a  girl  of  fifteen  then,  glowing  with  health, 
and  had  ample  good  looks  of  her  own.  'Tis  odd  enough  that 
I  did  not  fall  in  love  with  her  when  Dolly  began  to  use  me 


OVER   THE   WALL  77 

so  outrageously.  But  a  lad  of  eighteen  is  scarce  a  rational 
creature.  I  went  and  sat  before  my  oracle  upon  the  vine- 
covered  porch  under  the  eaves,  and  poured  out  my  complaint 
She  laid  down  her  needlework  and  laughed. 

"You  silly  boy,"  said  she,  "can't  you  see  that  she  herseli 
has  prescribed  for  you  ?  She  was  right  when  she  told  you  to 
show  attention  to  Jenny.  And  if  you  dangle  about  Miss  Dolly 
now,  you  are  in  danger  of  losing  her.  She  knows  it  better 
than  you." 

I  had  Jenny  to  ride  the  very  next  day.  Eesult :  my  lady 
smiled  on  me  more  sweetly  than  ever  when  I  went  to  Prince 
George  Street,  and  vowed  Jenny  had  never  looked  prettier 
than  when  she  went  past  the  house.  This  left  my  victory  in 
such  considerable  doubt  that  I  climbed  the  back  wall  forthwith 
in  my  new  top-boots. 

"  So  you  looked  for  her  to  be  angry  ?  "  said  Patty. 

"  Most  certainly,"  said  I. 

"  Unreasoning  vanity ! "  she  cried,  for  she  knew  how  to 
speak  plain.  "  By  your  confession  to  me  you  have  done  this 
to  please  her,  for  she  warned  you  at  the  beginning  it  would 
please  her.  And  now  you  complain  of  it.  I  believe  I  know 
your  Dorothy  better  than  you." 

And  so  I  got  but  little  comfort  out  of  Patty  that  time. 


CHAPTER  IX 

UNDEK   FALSE   COLOURS 

And  now  I  come  to  a  circumstance  in  my  life  I  wovild  rather 
pass  over  quickly.  Had  I  steered  tlie  straight  course  of  my 
impulse  I  need  never  have  deceived  that  dear  gentleman  whom 
I  loved  and  honoured  above  any  in  this  world,  and  with  whom 
I  had  always  lived  and  dealt  openly.  After  my  grandfather 
was  pronounced  to  be  mending,  I  went  back  to  Mr.  Allen  until 
such  time  as  we  should  be  able  to  go  to  the  country.  Philip 
no  longer  shared  my  studies,  his  hours  having  been  changed 
from  morning  to  afternoon.  I  thought  nothing  of  this,  bemg 
content  with  the  rector's  explanation  that  my  uncle  had  a  task 
for  Philip  in  the  morning,  now  that  Mr.  Carvel  was  better. 
And  I  was  well  content  to  be  rid  of  Philip's  company.  But  as 
the  days  passed  I  began  to  mark  an  absence  still  stranger.  I 
had  my  Horace  and  my  Ovid  still :  but  the  two  hours  from 
eleven  to  one,  which  he  was  wont  to  give  up  to  history  and 
what  he  was  pleased  to  call  instruction  in  loyalty,  were  filled 
with  other  matter.  Not  a  word  now  of  politics  from  Mr.  Allen. 
Not  even  a  comment  from  him  concerning  the  spirited  doings 
of  our  Assembly,  with  which  the  town  was  ringing.  That 
body  had  met  but  a  while  before,  primed  to  act  on  the  circu- 
lar drawn  up  by  Mr.  Adams  of  Massachusetts.  The  Govern- 
or's message  had  not  been  so  prompt  as  to  forestall  them,  and 
I  am  occupied  scarce  the  time  in  the  writing  of  this  that  it 
took  our  brave  members  to  adopt  the  petition  to  his  Majesty 
and  to  pass  resolutions  of  support  to  our  sister  colony  of  the 
North.  This  being  done,  and  a  most  tart  reply  penned  to  his 
Excellency,  they  ended  that  sitting  and  passed  in  procession 
to  the  Governor's  mansion  to  deliver  it,  M*  Speaker  Lloyd  at 

78   . 


UNDER  FALSE  COLOURS  79 

cheir  head,  and  a  vast  concovirse  of  cheering  people  at  their 
heels.  Shutters  were  barred  on  the  Tory  houses  we  passed. 
And  though  Mr.  Allen  spied  me  in  the  crowd,  he  never  men- 
tioned the  circumstance.  More  than  once  I  essayed  to  draw 
from  him  an  opinion  of  Mr.  Adams's  petition,  which  was  deemed 
a  work  of  great  moderation  and  merit,  and  got  nothing  but 
evasion  from  my  tutor.  That  he  had  become  suddenly  an 
American  in  principle  I  could  not  believe.  At  length  I  made 
bold  to  ask  him  why  our  discussions  were  now  omitted.  He 
looked  up  from  the  new  play  he  was  reading  on  the  study 
lounge,  with  a  glance  of  dark  meaning  I  could  not  fathom. 

"  You  are  learning  more  than  I  can  teach  you  in  Gloucester 
Street,  and  at  the  Stadt  House,"  he  said. 

In  truth  I  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  his  attitude  until  the 
day  in  June  my  grandfather  and  I  went  to  Carvel  Hall. 

The  old  gentleman  was  weak  still,  so  feeble  that  he  had  to 
be  carried  to  his  barge  in  a  chair,  a  vehicle  he  had  ever  held  in 
scorn.  But  he  was  cheerful,  and  his  spirit  remained  the  same 
as  of  old :  but  for  that  spirit  I  believe  he  had  never  again  risen 
from  his  bed  in  Marlboro'  Street.  My  uncle  and  the  rector 
were  among  those  who  walked  by  his  side  to  the  dock,  and 
would  have  gone  to  the  Hall  with  him  had  he  permitted  them. 
He  was  kind  enough  to  say  that  my  arm  was  sutRcient  to  lean  on. 

What  peace  there  was  sitting  once  again  under  the  rustling 
trees  on  the  lawn  with  the  green  river  and  the  blue  bay  spread 
out  before  us,  and  Scipio  standing  by  with  my  grandfather's 
punch.  Mr.  Carvel  would  have  me  rehearse  again  all  that  had 
passed  in  town  and  colony  since  his  illness,  which  I  did  with 
as  much  moderation  as  I  was  able.  And  as  we  talked  he 
reached  out  and  took  my  hand,  for  I  sat  near  him,  and  said  :  — 

"Richard,  I  have  heard  tidings  of  you  that  gladden  my 
heart,  and  they  have  done  m'^re  than  Dr.  Leiden's  physic  for 
this  old  frame  of  mine.  I  well  knew  a  Carvel  could  never  go 
a  wrong  course,  lad,  and  you  least  of  any." 

"  Tidings,  sir  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Ay,  tidings,'''  answered  Mr.  Carvel.  Such  a  note  of  relief 
and  gladness  there  was  in  the  words  as  I  had  not  heard  foi 
months  from  him,  and  a  vague  fear  came  upon  m& 


80  RICHARD   CARAMEL 

*•  Scipio,"  he  said  merrily, "  a  punch  for  Mr.  Richard."  And 
when  the  glass  was  brought  my  grandfather  added :  "  May  it 
be  ever  thus ! " 

I  drained  the  toast,  not  falling  into  his  humour  or  compre- 
hending his  reference,  but  dreading  that  aught  I  might  say 
would  disturb  him,  held  my  peace.  And  yet  my  apprehension 
increased.     He  set  down  his  glass  and  continued :  — 

"  I  had  no  hope  of  this  yet,  Richard,  for  you  were  ever  slow 
to  change.  Your  conversion  does  credit  to  Mr.  Allen  as  well 
as  to  you.  In  short,  sir,  the  rector  gives  me  an  excellent  good 
account  of  ycjr  studies,  and  adds  that  the  King  hath  gained 
another  loyal  servant,  for  which  I  thank  God." 

I  have  no  words  to  write  of  my  feelings  then.  My  head 
swam  and  my  hand  trembled  on  my  grandfather's,  and  I  saw 
dimly  the  old  gentleman's  face  aglow  with  joy  and  pride,  and 
knew  not  what  to  say  or  do.  The  answer  I  framed,  alas,  re- 
mained unspoken.  From  his  own  lips  I  had  heard  how  much 
the  news  had  mended  him,  and  for  once  I  lacked  the  heart, 
nay,  the  courage,  to  speak  the  truth.  But  Mr.  Carvel  took  no 
heed  of  my  silence,  setting  it  down  to  another  cause. 

"  And  so,  my  sou,"  he  said,  "  there  is  no  need  of  sending  you 
to  Eton  next  fall.  I  am  not  much  longer  for  this  earth,  and 
can  ill  spare  you :  and  Mr.  Allen  kindly  consents  to  prepare 
you  for  Oxford." 

"  Mr.  Allen  consents  to  that,  sir  ?  "  I  gasped.  I  think,  could 
I  have  laid  hands  on  the  rector  then,  I  would  have  thrashed 
him,  cloth  and  all,  within  an  inch  of  his  life. 

And  as  if  to  crown  my  misery  Mr.  Carvel  rose,  and  bearing 
heavily  on  my  shoulder  led  me  to  the  stable  where  Harvey 
and  one  of  the  black  grooms  stood  in  livery  to  receive  ua. 
Harvey  held  by  the  bridle  a  blooded  bay  hunter,  and  her  like 
could  scarce  be  found  in  the  colony.  As  she  stood  arching  her 
neck  and  pawing  the  ground,  I  all  confusion  and  shame,  my 
grandfather  said  simply  :  — 

"  Richard,  this  is  Firefly.  I  have  got  her  for  you  from  Mr. 
Randolph,  of  Virginia,  for  you  are  now  old  enough  to  have  a 
good  mount  of  your  own." 

All  that  night  I  lay  awake,  trying  to  sift  some  motive  for 


UNDER  FALSE   COLOURS  81 

Mr.  Allen's  deceit.  For  the  life  of  me  I  could  see  no  farther 
than  a  desire  to  keep  me  as  his  pupil,  since  he  was  well  paid 
for  his  tuition.  Still,  the  game  did  not  seem  worth  the  candle. 
However,  he  was  safe  in  his  lie.  Shrewd  rogue  that  he  was, 
he  well  knew  that  I  would  not  risk  the  attack  a  disappoint- 
ment might  bring  my  grandfather. 

What  troubled  me  most  of  all  was  the  fear  that  Grafton  had 
reaped  the  advantage  of  the  opportunity  the  illness  gave  him, 
and  by  his  insidious  arts  had  worked  himself  back  into  the 
good  graces  of  his  father.  You  must  not  draw  from  this,  my 
dears,  that  I  feared  for  the  inheritance.  Praised  be  God,  1 
never  thought  of  that !  but  I  came  by  nature  to  hate  and  to 
fear  my  uncle,  as  I  hated  and  feared  the  devil.  I  saw  him 
with  my  father's  eyes,  and  with  my  mother's,  and  as  m}^  grand- 
father had  seen  him  in  the  old  days  when  he  was  strong. 
Instinct  and  reason  alike  made  me  loathe  him.  As  the  months 
passed,  and  letters  in  Grafton's  scroll  hand  came  from  the  Kent 
estate  or  from  Annapolis,  my  misgivings  were  confirmed  by 
odd  remarks  that  dropped  from  Mr.  Carvel's  lips.  At  length 
arrived  the  revelation  itself. 

"  I  fear,  Richard,"  he  had  said  querulously,  "  I  fear  that  all 
these  years  I  have  done  your  uncle  an  injustice.  Dear  Eliza- 
beth was  wont  to  plead  for  him  before  she  died,  but  I  would 
never  listen  to  her.  I  was  hearty  and  strong  then,  and  my 
heart  was  hard.  And  a  remembrance  of  many  things  was 
fresh  m  my  mind."  He  paused  for  breath,  as  was  his  habit 
now.  And  I  said  nothing.  "  But  Grafton  has  striven  to 
wipe  out  the  past.  Sickness  teaches  us  that  we  must  condone, 
and  not  condemn.  He  has  lived  a  reputable  life,  and  made 
the  most  of  the  little  start  I  gave  him.  He  has  supported  his 
Majesty  and  my  Lord  in  most  trying  times.  And  his  Excel- 
lency tells  me  that  the  coming  governor,  Eden,  will  surely 
reward  him  with  a  seat  in  the  Council." 

I  thought  of  Governor  Sharpe's  biting  words  to  Grafton. 
The  Governor  knew  my  uncle  well,  and  I  was  sure  he  had 
never  sat  at  his  Council. 

"  A  son  is  a  son,  Richard,"  continued  Mr.  Carvel,  "  You 
will  one  day  find  that  out.  Your  uncle  has  atoned.  He  hat'. 
a 


82  RICHARD   CARVEL 

been  faithful  during  my  illness,  despite  my  cold  treatment, 
And  he  hath  convinced  me  that  your  welfare  is  at  his  heart. 
I  believe  he  is  fond  of  you,  my  lad." 

No  greater  sign  of  breaking  health  did  I  need  than  this,  that 
Mr.  Carvel  should  become  blind  to  Grafton's  hypocrisy ;  forget 
his  attempts  to  prevent  my  father's  marriage,  and  to  throw 
doubt  upon  my  mother's  birth.  The  agony  it  gave  me,  coming 
as  it  did  on  top  of  the  cruel  deception,  I  shall  not  dwell  upon. 
And  the  thought  bursting  within  me  remained  unspoken. 

I  saw  less  of  Dorothy  then  than  I  had  in  any  summer  of 
my  life  before.  In  spite  of  Mrs.  Manners,  the  chrysalis  had 
burst  into  the  butterfly,  and  Wilmot  House  had  never  been 
so  gay.  It  must  be  remembered  that  there  were  times  when ' 
young  ladies  made  their  entrance  into  the  world  at  sixteen, 
and  for  a  beauty  to  be  unmarried  at  twenty-two  was  rare 
indeed.  When  I  went  to  Wilmot  House  to  dine,  the  table 
would  be  always  full,  and  Mr.  Marmaduke  simpering  at  the 
head  of  it,  his  air  of  importance  doubled  by  his  reflected  glory. 

"  We  see  nothing  of  you,  my  lad,"  he  would  say ;  "you  must 
not  let  these  young  gallants  get  ahead  of  you.  How  does  your 
grandfather  ?     I  must  pay  my  compliments  to-morrow." 

Of  gallants  there  were  enough,  to  be  sure.  Dr.  Courtenay, 
of  course,  with  a  nosegay  on  his  coat,  striving  to  catch  the 
beauty's  eye.  And  Mr.  Worthington  and  Mr.  Dulany,  and 
Mr.  Fitzhugh  and  Mr.  Paca.  and  I  know  not  how  many  other 
young  bachelors  of  birth  and  means.  And  Will  Fotheringay, 
who  spent  some  of  his  time  with  me  at  the  Hall.  Silver  and 
China,  with  the  Manners  coat-of-aruis,  were  laid  out  that  had 
not  seen  the  light  for  many  a  long  day.  And  there  were  pic- 
nics, and  sailing  parties,  and  dances  galore,  some  of  which  I 
attended,  but  heard  of  more.  It  seemed  to  me  that  my  lady 
was  tiring  of  the  doctor's  compliments,  and  had  transferred 
her  fickle  favour  to  young  Mr.  Fitzhugh,  who  was  much  more 
worthy,  by  the  way.  As  for  me,  I  had  troubles  enough  then, 
and  had  become  used  in  some  sort  to  being  shelved. 

One  night  in  July,  —  'twas  the  very  day  Mr.  Carvel  had 
spoken  to  me  of  Grafton,  —  I  had  ridden  over  to  Wilmot 
House  to  supper.     I  had  little  heart  for  going,  but  good  Mrs. 


"  Why  do  you  not  come  over,  as  you  used  to  ?  " 


UNDER   FALSE   COLOURS  83 

Manners  herself  had  made  me  promise,  and  I  could  not  break 
my  word.  I  must  have  sat  very  silent  and  preoccupied  at  the 
table,  where  all  was  wit  and  merriment.  And  more  than  once 
I  saw  the  laughter  leave  Dorothy's  face,  and  caught  her  eyes 
upon  me  with  such  a  look  as  set  my  heart  throbbing.  They 
would  not  meet  my  own,  but  would  turn  away  instantly.  I  was 
heavy  indeed  that  night,  and  did  not  follow  the  company  into 
the  ball-room,  but  made  my  excuses  to  Mrs.  Manners. 

The  lawn  lay  bathed  in  moonlight ;  and  as  I  picked  my  way 
over  it  toward  the  stables  for  i'irefly,  I  paused  to  look  back 
at  the  house  aglow  with  light,  the  music  of  the  fiddles  and 
the  sound  of  laughter  floating  out  of  the  open  windows.  Even 
as  I  gazed  a  white  figure  was  framed  in  the  doorway,  paused 
a  moment  on  the  low  stone  step,  and  then  came  on  until  it 
stood  beside  me. 

"  Are  you  not  well,  Richard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  well,"  I  answered.  I  scarcely  knew  my  own 
voice. 

*'  Is  your  grandfather  worse  ?  " 

"  No,  Dorothy ;  he  seems  better  to-day." 

She  stood,  seemingly  irresolute,  her  eyes  now  lifted,  now 
falling  before  mine.  Her  slender  arms  bare,  save  for  the 
little  puff  at  the  shoulders ;  her  simple  dress  drawn  a  little 
above  the  waist,  then  falling  straight  to  the  white  slipper* 
How  real  the  ecstasy  of  that  moment,  and  the  pain  of  it ! 

"  Why  do  you  not  come  over,  as  you  used  to  ?  "  she  asked 
in  a  low  tone. 

"  I  am  very  busy,"  I  replied  evasively ;  "  Mr.  Carvel  cannot 
attend  to  his  affairs."  I  longed  to  tell  her  the  whole  truth, 
but  the  words  would  not  come. 

"  I  hear  you  are  managing  the  estate  all  alone,"  she  said. 

"  There  is  no  one  else  to  do  it." 

"Richard,"  she  cried,  drawing  closer,  "you  are  in  trouble. 
I  —  I  have  seen  it.  You  are  so  silent,  and  —  and  you  seem  to 
have  become  older.     Tell  me,  is  it  your  Uncle  Grafton  ?  " 

So  astonished  was  I  at  the  question,  and  because  she  had 
divined  so  surely,  that  I  did  not  answer. 

"Is  it  ?"  she  asked  again. 


84  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Y'es,"  I  said;  "yes,  in  part." 

And  then  came  voices  calling  from  the  house.  They  had 
missed  her. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  Richard.     I  shall  tell  no  one." 

She  laid  her  hand  ever  so  lightly  upon  mine  and  was  gone. 
I  stood  staring  after  her  until  she  disappeared  in  the  door. 
All  the  way  home  I  marvelled,  my  thoughts  tumultuous,  my 
hopes  rising  and  falling. 

But  when  next  I  saw  her,  I  thought  she  had  forgotten. 

We  had  little  company  at  the  Hall  that  year,  on  account  of 
Mr.  Carvel.  And  I  had  been  busy  indeed.  I  sought  with  all 
my  might  to  master  a  business  for  which  I  had  but  little 
taste,  and  my  grandfather  complimented  me,  before  the  season 
was  done,  upon  my  management.  I  was  wont  to  ride  that 
summer  at  four  of  a  morning  to  canter  beside  Mr.  Starkie 
afield,  and  I  came  to  know  the  yield  of  every  patch  to  a  hogs- 
head and  the  pound  price  to  a  farthing.  I  grew  to  understand 
as  well  as  another  the  methods  of  curing  the  leaf.  And  the 
wheat  pest  appearing  that  year,  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  dis- 
cover some  of  the  clusters  in  the  sheaves,  and  ground  our 
oyster-shells  in  time  to  save  the  crop.  Many  a  long  even- 
ing I  spent  on  the  wharves  with  old  Stanwix,  now  toothless 
and  living  on  his  pension,  with  my  eye  on  the  glow  of  his 
pipe  and  my  ear  bent  to  his  stories  of  the  sea.  It  was  his 
fancy  that  the  gift  of  prophecy  had  come  to  him  with  the 
years ;  and  at  times,  when  his  look  would  wander  to  the  black 
rigging  in  the  twilight,  he  would  speak  strangely  enough. 

"  Faith,  Mr.  Richard,"  he  would  say  ;  "  tho'  your  father  was 
a  soldier  afore  ye,  ye  were  born  to  the  deck  of  a  ship-6'-war. 
Mark  an  old  man's  words,  sir." 

"Can  you  see  the  frigate,  Stanwix?  "  I  laughed  once,  when 
he  had  repeated  this  with  more  than  common  solemnity. 

His  reply  rose  above  the  singing  of  the  locusts. 

"Ay,  sir,  that  I  can.  But  she's  no  frigate,  sir.  Devil  knows 
what  she  is.  She  looks  like  a  big  merchantman  to  me,  such 
as  I've  seed  in  the  Injy  trade,  with  a  high  poop  in  the  old 
style.  And  her  piercin's  be  not  like  a  frigate."  He  said  this 
with  a  readiness  to  startle  me,  and  little  enough  superstition  I 


UNDER   FALSE   COLOURS  86 

had.  A  light  was  on  his  seared  face,  and  his  pipe  lay  neglected 
on  the  boards.  "  Ay,  sir,  and  there  be  a  flag  astern  of  hei 
never  yet  seed  on  earth,  nor  on  the  waters  under  the  earth 
The  tide  is  settin'  in,  the  tide  is  settin'  in." 

These  were  words  to  set  me  thinking.  And  many  a  time 
they  came  back  to  me  when  the  old  man  was  laid  away 
in  the  spot  reserved  for  those  who  sailed  the  seas  for  Mr. 
Carvel. 

Every  week  I  drew  up  a  report  for  my  grandfather,  anc 
thus  I  strove  by  shouldering  labour  and  responsibility  to  ease 
my  conscience  of  that  load  which  troubled  it.  For  often,  as 
we  walked  together  through  the  3^ellc\v  fields  of  an  evening,  it 
had  been  on  my  tongue  to  confess  the  lie  Mr.  Allen  had  led 
me  into.  But  the  sight  of  the  old  man,  trembling  and  tremu- 
lous, aged  by  a  single  stroke,  his  childlike  trust  in  my  strength 
and  beliefs,  and  above  all  his  faith  in  a  political  creed  which 
he  nigh  deemed  needful  for  the  soul's  salvation, — these  things 
still  held  me  back.  Was  it  worth  while  now,  I  asked  myself, 
to  disturb  the  peace  of  that  mind  ? 

Thus  the  summer  wore  on  to  early  autumn.  And  one  day  I 
was  standing  booted  and  spurred  in  the  stables,  Harvey  putting 
the  bridle  upon  Firefly,  when  my  boy  Hugo  comes  running  in, 

''Marse  Dick!"  he  cries,  "  Marse  Satan  he  come  in  he  pin- 
nace, and  young  Marse  Satan  and  Missis  Satan,  and  Marse 
Satan's  pastor!" 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean,  Hugo  ?" 

"Young  ebony's  right,  sir,"  chuckled  Harvey;  "'tis  the  devil 
and  his  following." 

"  Do  you  mean  Mr.  Grafton,  fellow  ?  "  I  demanded,  the 
unwelcome  truth  coming  over  me. 

"That  he  does,"  remarked  Harvey,  laconically.  "You  won't 
be  wanting  her  now,  your  honour  ?  " 

"Hold  my  stirrup,"  I  cried,  for  the  news  had  put  me  in 
anger.     "  Hold  my  stirrup,  sirrah ! " 

1  believe  I  took  Firefly  the  best  of  thirty  miles  that  after- 
,noon  and  brought  her  back  in  the  half-light,  my  saddle  dis 
coloured  with  her  sweat.  I  clanked  into  the  hall  like  a  captain 
of  horse     The  night  was  sharp  with  the  first  touch  of  autumn^ 


86  RICHARD   CARVEL 

and  a  huge  backlog  lay  on  the  irons.  Around  it,  in  a. comfort 
able  half-circle,  sat  our  guests,  Grafton  and  Mr.  Allen  and 
Philip  smoking  and  drinking  for  a  whet  against  supper,  and 
Mrs.  Grafton  in  my  grandfather's  chair.  There  was  au 
easy  air  of  possession  about  the  party  of  them  that  they  had 
never  before  assumed,  and  the  sight  made  me  rattle  again  the 
big  door  behind  me. 

"  A  surprise  for  you,  my  dear  nephew,"  Grafton  said  gayly. 
■•  I'll  lay  a  puncheon  you  did  not  expect  us." 

Mr.  Carvel  woke  with  a  start  at  the  sound  of  the  door  and 
said  querulously,  "  Guests,  my  lad,  and  I  have  done  mj  poor 
best  to  make  them  welcome  in  your  absence." 

The  sense  of  change  in  him  stung  me.  How  different  would 
his  tone  have  been  a  year  ago ! 

He  tattooed  with  his  cane,  which  was  the  sign  he  generally 
made  when  he  was  ready  for  bed.  Toward  night  his  speech 
would  hurt  him.  I  assisted  him  up  the  stairs,  my  uncle  taking 
his  arm  on  the  other  side.  And  together,  with  Diomedes's  help, 
we  undressed  him,  Grafton  talking  in  low  tones  the  while. 
Since  this  was  an  office  I  was  wont  to  perform,  my  temper  was 
now  overwhelming  me.  But  I  kept  my  mouth  closed.  At 
last  he  had  had  the  simple  meal  Dr.  Leiden  allowed  him,  his 
candles  were  snuffed,  and  my  uncle  and  I  made  our  way  to 
the  hall  together.  There  my  aunt  and  Mr.  Allen  were  at 
picquet. 

"Supper  is  insupportably  late,"  says  she,  with  a  yawn,  and 
rings  the  hand-bell.  "  Scipio,"  she  cries,  "  why  are  we  not 
served?" 

I  took  a  stride  forward.  But  my  uncle  raised  a  restraining 
hand. 

"Caroline,  remember  that  this  is  not  our  house,"  says  he, 
reprovingly. 

There  fell  a  deep  silence,  the  log  cracking;  and  just  then 
the  door  swung  on  its  hinges,  and  Mr.  Starkie  entered  with 
the  great  bunch  of  keys  in  his  hand. 

"  The  buildings  are  all  secure,  Mr.  Richard,"  he  said. 

"Very  good,  Starkie,"  I  replied.  I  turned  to  Scipio,  stand, 
ing  by  the  low-boy,  his  teeth  going  like  a  castanet. 


UNDER  FALSE   COLOURS  87 

"  You  may  serve  at  tlie  usual  hour,  Scipio,"  said  I. 

Supper  began  stiff  as  a  state  banquet.  My  uncle  was  con- 
ciliatory, with  the  manners  of  a  Crichton.  My  aunt,  not  hav- 
ing come  from  generations  of  silver  and  self-control,  flatly  in 
a  bad  humour.  Mr.  Allen  talked  from  force  of  habit,  being 
used  to  pay  in  such  kind  for  his  meals.  But  presently  the 
madeira  warmed  these  two  into  a  better  spirit.  I  felt  that  \ 
had  victory  on  my  side,  and  was  nothing  loth  to  join  them  at 
whist,  Philip  and  I  against  the  rectoi  and  my  aunt,  and  won 
something  like  two  pounds  apiece  from  them.  Grafton  made 
it  a  rule  never  to  play. 

The  next  morning,  when  I  returned  from  my  inspection,  I 
found  the  rector  and  Philip  had  decamped  with  two  of  our 
choice  horses,  and  that  my  uncle  and  aunt  had  commanded 
the  barge,  and  gone  to  Mr.  Lloyd's.     I  sent  for  Scipio. 

"  Fore  de  Lawd,  Marse  Richard,"  he  wailed,  "  'twan't  Scipio's 
fault.  Marse  Grafton  is  de  fambly  !  "  This  was  Scipio's  strong- 
est argument.  "I  jes'  can't  refuse  one  of  de  fambly,  Marse 
Dick ;  and  old  Marse  he  say  he  too  old  now  for  quarrellin'." 

I  saw  that  resistance  was  useless.  There  was  nothing  for  it 
but  to  bide  my  time.  And  I  busied  myself  with  bills  of  cargo 
until  I  heard  the  horses  on  the  drive.  Mr.  Allen  and  Philip 
came  swaggering  in,  flushed  with  the  exercise,  and  calling  for 
punch,  and  I  met  them  in  the  hall. 

"  A  word  with  you,  Mr.  Allen !  "  I  called  out. 

"A  thousand,  Mr.  Richard,  if  you  like,"  he  said  gayly,  "as 
soon  as  this  thirst  of  mine  be  quenched." 

I  waited  while  he  drained  two  glasses,  when  he  followed  me 
into  the  library,  closing  the  door  behind  him. 

*'  Now,  sir,"  I  began,  "  though  by  a  chance  you  are  my  mental 
and  spiritual  adviser,  I  intend  speaking  plain.  For  I  know  you 
to  be  one  of  the  greatest  rogues  in  the  colony." 

I  watched  him  narrowly  the  while,  for  I  had  some  notion 
he  might  run  me  through.     But  I  had  misjudged  him. 

"  Speak  plain,  by  all  means,"  he  replied ;  "  but  first  let  me 
ask  for  some  tobacco." 

He  filled  the  bowl  of  his  pipe,  and  sat  him  down  by  the  ■win- 
dow.     For  the  moment  I  was  silent  with  sheer  surprise. 


88  RICHAPvD   CAEVEL 

"  You  know  I  can't  call  you  out,"  he  went  on,  surrounding 
iiimself  with  clouds  of  smoke,  "  a  lad  of  eighteen  or  so.  And 
even  if  I  could,  I  doubt  whether  I  should.  I  like  you,  Eich- 
ard,"saidhe.  "  You  are  straight-spoken  and  commanding.  In 
brief,  sir,  you  are  the  kind  of  lad  I  should  have  been  had  not 
fate  pushed  me  into  a  corner,  and  made  me  squirm  for  life's 
luxuries.  I  hate  squirming  as  much  as  another.  This  is  prime 
tobacco,  Eichard." 

He  had  come  near  disarming  me ;  I  was  on  the  edge  of  a 
dangerous  admiration  for  this  man  of  the  world,  and  for  the 
life  of  ni3,  I  could  not  help  liking  him  then.  He  had  a  fine 
presence,  was  undeniably  handsome,  and  his  riding  clothes 
were  of  the  latest  London  cut. 

"  Are  there  not  better  methods  for  obtaining  what  you  wish 
tnan  those  you  practise  ?  "  I  asked  curiously. 

"jSTo  doubt,"  he  answered  carelessly;  "but  these  are  well 
enough,  and  shorter.  You  were  about  to  do  me  the  honour  of 
a  communication  ?  " 

This  brought  me  to  my  senses,  I  had,  however,  lost  much 
of  my  heat  in  the  interval. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  why  you  lied  to  Mr.  Carvel  about 
my  convictions,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  said.  "  I  am  not  of  the  King's 
party  now,  and  never  shall  be.  And  you  know  this  better  than 
another." 

"  Those  are  strong  words,  Eichard,  my  lad,"  said  he,  bring- 
ing his  eyebrows  together. 

"  They  are  true  words,"  I  retorted.  "  Why  did  you  lie, 
I  say  ?  " 

He  said  nothing  for  a  while,  but  his  breath  came  heavily. 

"  I  will  pass  it,  I  will  pass  it,"  he  said  at  length,  "  but,  by 
God !  it  is  more  than  I  have  had  to  swallow  in  all  my  life  be- 
fore. Look  at  your  grandfather,  sir  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  behold  him 
on  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  and  ask  me  again  why  I  lied 
to  him !  His  hope  of  heaven  is  scarce  less  sacred  to  him  than 
his  love  of  the  King,  and  both  are  so  tightly  wrapped  about  his 
heart  that  this  knowledge  of  you  would  break  it.  Yes,  break 
his  heart,  I  say  "  (and  he  got  to  his  legs),  "  and  you  would  kill 
him  for  the  sake  of  a  boyish  fanjy  '.  " 


UNDER   FALSE   COLOURS  89 

I  knew  he  was  acting,  as  well  as  though  he  had  climbed  upon 
the  table  and  said  it.  And  yet  he  had  struck  the  very  note  of 
my  own  fears,  and  hit  upon  the  one  reason  why  I  had  not  con- 
fessed long  ago. 

"There  is  more  you  might  have  said,  Mi-.  Allen,"  I  remarked 
presently;  "you  have  a  cause  for  keeping  me  unde^r  your  in- 
struction, and  that  is  behind  all." 

He  gave  me  a  strange  look. 

"You  are  too  acute  by  far,"  said  he;  "your  imagination 
runs  with  you.  I  have  said  I  like  you,  and  I  can  teach  you 
classics  as  well  as  another.  Is  it  not  enough  to  admit  that 
the  money  I  get  for  your  instruction  keeps  me  in  cham- 
pagne ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  not  enough,"  I  said  stoutly. 

"Then  yo^i  must  guess  again,  my  lad,"  he  answered  with  a 
laugh,  and  left  the  room  with  the  easy  grace  that  distinguished 
him. 

There  was  armed  peace  the  rest  of  my  uncle's  visit.  They  de- 
parted on  the  third  day.  My  Aunt  Caroline,  when  she  was  not 
at  picquet  with  Mr.  Allen  or  quarrelling  with  Mrs.  Willis  or  with 
Grafton  himself,  yawned  without  cessation.  She  declared  in 
one  of  her  altercations  with  her  lord  and  master  that  she  would 
lose  her  wits  were  they  to  remain  another  day,  a  threat  that  did 
not  seem  to  move  Grafton  greatly.  Philip  ever  maintained 
the  right  to  pitch  it  on  the  side  of  his  own  convenience,  and  he 
chose  in  this  instance  to  come  to  the  rescue  of  his  dear  mamma, 
and  turned  the  scales  in  her  favour.  He  was  pleased  to  char- 
acterize the  Hall  as  insupportable,  and  vowed  that  his  clothes 
would  be  out  of  fashion  before  they  reached  Rousb}^  Hall,  their 
next  stopping-place.  To  do  Philip  justice,  he  was  more  hon- 
est a  rascal  than  his  father,  tho'  I  ain  of  the  opinion  that  he 
had  not  the  brain  for  great  craft.  And  he  had  drawn  from 
his  mother  a  love  of  baubles  which  kept  his  mind  from  schem- 
ing.    He  had  little  to  say  to  me,  and  I  less  to  him. 

Grafton,  as  may  be  supposed,  made  me  distinct  advances 
before  his  departure,  perceiving  the  unwisdom  of  antagoniz- 
ing me  unnecessarily.  He  had  the  imprudence  once  to  ask 
of  me  the  facts  and  figures  of  the  estate ;  and  tho'  'twas  skil- 


90  RICHARD   CARVEL 

fully  done  by  contrasting  his  own  crops  in  Kent,  you  may  be 
sure  I  was  on  my  guard,  and  that  he  got  nothing. 

I  was  near  forgetting  an  incident  of  their  visit  which  I  after- 
wards had  good  cause  to  remember.  The  morning  of  my  talk 
with  Mr.  Allen  I  went  to  the  stables  to  see  how  he  had  used 
Cynthia,  alid  found  old  Harvey  wiping  her  down,  and  rumbling 
the  while  like  a  crater. 

"  What  think  you  of  the  rector  as  a  representative  of  heaven, 
Harvey  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Him  a  representative  of  heaven !  "  he  snorted ;  "  I've  heard 
tell  of  rotten  boroughs,  and  I'm  thinking  Mr.  Allen  will  be 
standing  for  one.  What  be  him  and  Mr.  Grafton  adoing  here, 
sir,  plotting  all  kinds  o'  crime  while  the  old  gentleman's  nigh 
on  his  back  ?  " 

''  Plotting  ?  "  I  said,  catching  at  the  word._ 

"Ay,  plotting,"  repeated  Harvey,  casting  his  cloth  away; 
"  murder  and  all  the  crimes  in  the  calendar,  I  take  it.  I  hear 
him  and  Mr.  Grafton  among  the  stalls  this  morning,  and  when 
they  sees  me  they  look  like  Knipe,  here,  caught  with  a  fowl." 

"  And  what  were  they  saymg  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"Saying!  God  only  knows  their  wickedness.  I  got  the 
words  'Upper  Marlboro''  and  'South  River'  and  'next  voy- 
age,' and  that  profligate  rector  wanted  to  know  as  to  how 
*  Griggs  was  reliable.'  " 

I  thought  no  more  of  it  at  the  time,  believing  it  to  be  some 
of  the  small  rascalities  they  were  forever  at.  But  that  name 
of  Griggs  (why,  the  powers  only  know)  stuck  in  my  mind  to 
turn  up  again. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   RED    IN    THE   CARVEL    BLOOD 

After  that,  when  we  went  back  to  Annapolis  for  the  winter, 
there  was  no  longer  any  disguise  between  my  tutor  and  my- 
self. I  was  not  of  a  mind  to  feign  a  situation  that  did  not 
exist,  nor  to  permit  him  to  do  so.  I  garve  him  to  understand 
that  tho'  I  went  to  him  for  instruction,  'twas  through  no  fault 
of  mine.  That  I  would  learn  what  I  pleased  and  do  what 
oleased  me.  And  the  rector,  a  curse  npon  him,  seemed  well 
content  with  that ;  nor  could  I  come  at  his  devil's  reason  for 
wanting  me,  save  for  the  money,  as  he  had  declared.  There 
were  days  when  he  and  I  never  touched  a  book,  both  being 
out  of  humour  for  study,  when  he  told  me  yarns  of  Frederick 
of  Prussia  and  his  giant  guard,  of  Florence  and  of  Venice,  and 
of  the  court  of  his  Holiness  of  Rome.  For  he  had  drifted 
about  the  earth  like  a  log-end  in  the  Atlantic,  before  his  Lord 
ship  gave  him  his  present  berth.  We  passed,  too,  whole  morn- 
ings at  picquet,  I  learning  enough  of  Horace  to  quote  at  the 
routs  we  both  attended,  but  a  deal  more  of  kings  and  deuces. 
And  this  I  may  add,  that  he  got  no  more  of  my  money  than 
did  I  of  his. 

The  wonder  of  it  was  that  we  never  became  friends.  He 
was  two  men,  this  rector  of  St.  Anne's,  half  of  him  as  lovable 
as  any  I  ever  encountered.  But  trust  him  I  never  would,  al- 
ways meeting  him  on  the  middle  ground ;  and  there  were  times, 
after  his  talks  with  Grafton,  when  his  eyes  were  like  a  cat's, 
and  I  was  conscious  of  a  sinister  note  in  his  dealing  which 
put  me  on  my  guard. 

You  will  say,  my  dears,  that  some  change  had  come  over  me, 
that  I  WHS  no  longer  the  same  lad  I  have  been  telling  you  of. 

91 


92  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Those  days  were  not  these,  yet  I  make  no  show  of  hiding  oi 
of  palliation.  Was  it  Dorothy's  conduct  that  drove  me  ?  Not 
wholly.  A  wild  red  was  ever  in  the  Carvel  blood,  in  Captain 
Jack,  in  Lionel,  in  the  ancestor  of  King  Charles's  day,  who 
fought  and  bled  and  even  gambled  for  his  king.  And  my 
grandfather  knew  this ;  he  warned  me,  but  he  paid  my  debts. 
And  I  thank  Heaven  he  felt  that  my  heart  was  right. 

I  was  grown  now,  certainly  in  stature.  And  having  man- 
aged one  of  the  largest  plantations  in  the  province,  I  felt 
the  man,  as  J  ads  are  wont  after  their  first  responsibilities.  I 
commanded  my  wine  at  the  Coffee  House  with  the  best  of 
the  bucks,  and  was  made  a  member  of  the  South  River  and 
Jockey  clubs.  I  wore  the  clothes  that  came  out  to  me  from 
London,  and  vied  in  .fashion  with  Dr.  Courtenay  and  other 
macaronies.  And  I  drove  a  carriage  of  mine  own,  the  Carvel 
arms  emblazoned  thereon,  and  Hugo  in  the  family  livery. 

After  a  deal  of  thought  upon  the  subject,  I  decided,  for 
a  while  at  least,  to  show  no  political  leanings  at  all.  And 
this  was  easier  of  accomplishment  than  you  may  believe, 
for  at  that  time  in  Maryland  Tory  and  Whig  were  amiable 
enough,  and  the  young  gentlemen  of  the  first  families  dressed 
alike  and  talked  alike  at  the  parties  they  both  attended.  The 
non-importation  association  had  scarce  made  itself  felt  in  the 
dress  of  society.  Gentlemen  of  degree  discussed  differences 
amicably  over  their  decanters.  And  only  on  such  occasiongf 
as  Mr.  Hood's  return,  and  the  procession  of  the  Lower  House 
through  the  streets,  and  the  arrival  of  the  Good  Intent,  did 
high  words  arise  among  the  quality.  And  it  was  because 
class  distinctions  were  so  strongly  marked  that  it  took  so 
long  to  bring  loyalists  and  patriots  of  high  rank  to  the 
sword's  point. 

I  found  time  to  manage  such  business  affairs  of  Mr.  Car- 
vel's as  he  could  not  attend  to  himself.  Grafton  and  his 
family  dined  in  Marlboro'  Street  twice  in  the  week  ;  my  uncle's 
conduct  toward  me  was  the  very  soul  of  consideration,  and  he 
compelled  that  likewise  from  his  wife  and  his  son.  So  circum- 
spect was  he  that  he  would  have  fooled  one  who  knew  him 
a  whit  less  than  I.    He  qiiestioned  me  closely  upon  my  jtudiea, 


THE   RED   IN   THE   CARVEL   BLOOD  93 

and  in  my  grandfather's  presence  1  was  forced  to  answer. 
And  when  the  rector  came  to  dine  and  read  to  Mr.  Carvel,  my 
uncle  catechised  him  so  searchingly  on  my  progress  that  he 
was  pushed  to  the  last  source  of  his  ingenuity  for  replies. 
M'^re  than  once  was  I  tempted  to  blurt  out  the  whole  wretched 
business,  for  I  well  understood  there  was  some  deep  game  be- 
tween him  and  Grafton.  In  my  uncle's  absence,  my  aunt 
never  lost  a  chance  for  an  ill-natured  remark  upon  Patty, 
whom  she  had  seen  that  winter  at  the  assemblies  and  else- 
where. And  she  deplored  the  state  our  people  of  fashion  were 
coming  to,  that  they  allowed  young  girls  without  faiuily  to 
attend  their  balls. 

"  But  we  can  expect  little  else,  father,"  she  would  say  to 
Mr.  Carvel  nodding  in  his  chair,  "when  some  of  our  best 
famrlies  openly  espouse  the  pernicious  doctrines  of  republi- 
canism. They  are  gone  half  mad  over  that  Wilkes,  who 
should  have  been  hung  before  this.  Philip,  dear,  pour  the 
wme  for  your  grandfather." 

Miss  Patty  had  been  well  received.  I  took  her  to  her  first 
assembly,  where  her  simple  and  unassuming  ways  had  made 
her  an  instant  favourite ;  and  her  face,  which  had  the  beauty 
of  dignity  and  repose  even  so  early  in  life,  gained  her  ample 
attention.  I  think  she  would  have  gone  but  little  had  not 
her  father  laughed  her  out  of  some  of  her  domesticity.  No 
longer  at  Sunday  night  supper  in  Gloucester  Street  was  the 
guest  seat  empty.  There  was  more  than  one  guest  seat  now, 
and  the  honest  barrister  himself  was  the  most  pleased  at  the 
change.  As  I  took  my  accustomed  place  on  the  settle  cushion, 
—  Patty's  first  embroidery,  —  he  would  cry  :  — 

"  Heigho,  Richard,  our  little  Miss  Prim  hath  become  a  belle. 
And  I  must  have  another  clerk  now  to  copy  out  my  briefs,  and 
a  housekeeper  soon,  i'  faith." 

Patty  would  never  fail  to  flush  up  at  the  words,  and  run 
to  perch  on  her  father's  knee  and  put  her  hand  over  his 
mouth. 

"How  can  you,  Mr.  Swaiu  ? "  says  she;  "how  can  you, 
when  'tis  you  and  mother,  and  Richard  here,  who  make  me 
go  into  the  world?     You   know  I  would   a   thousand   times 


94  RICHARD   CARVEL 

rather  bake  your  cakes  and  clean  your  silver !     But  you  wil 
not  hear  of  it." 

"  Fie  !  "  says  the  barrister.  "  Listen  to  her,  Richard  !  And 
yet  she  will  fly  up  the  stairs  to  don  a  fine  gown  at  the  first 
rap  of  the  knocker.  Oh,  the  wenches,  the  wenches!  Are 
they  not  all  alike,  mother  ? " 

"They  have  changed  none  since  I  was  a  lass,"  replies  the 
quiet  invalid,  with  a  smile.  "And  you  should  know  what 
I  was,  Henry." 

"Know!"  cries  he;  "none  better.  Well  I  recall  the  salmon 
and  white  your  mother  gave  you  before  I  came  to  Salem."  He 
sighed  and  then  laughed  at  the  recollection.  "  And  when 
this  strapping  young  Singleton  comes,  Richard,  'twould  do  you 
good  to  be  hiding  there  in  that  cupboard,  —  and  it  would  hold 
you,  —  and  count  the  seconds  until  Miss  Prim  has  her  skirt 
in  her  hand  and  her  foot  on  the  lower  step;  And  yet  how 
innocent  is  she  now  before  you  and  me." 

Here  he  would  invariably  be  smothered. 

"  Percy  Singleton ! "  says  Patty,  with  a  fine  scorn ;  "  'twill 
be  Mr.  Eglinton,  the  curate,  next." 

"  This  I  know,"  says  her  father,  slapping  me  on  the  shoul- 
der, "this  I  know,  that  you  are  content  to  see  Richard  without 
primping." 

"  But  I  have  known  Richard  since  I  was  six,"  says  she. 
"  Richard  is  one  of  the  family.  There  is  no  need  of  disguise 
from  him." 

I  thought,  ruefully  enough,  that  it  seemed  my  fate  to  be  one 
of  the  family  everywhere  I  went. 

And  just  then,  as  if  in  judgment,  the  gate  snapped  and  the 
knocker  sounded,  and  Patty  leaped  down  with  a  blush.  "What 
did  I  say  ?  "  cries  the  barrister,  "  I  have  not  seen  human 
nature  in  court  for  naught.  Run,  now,"  says  he,  pinching  her 
cheek  as  she  stood  hesitating  whether  to  fly  or  stay ;  "  run  and 
put  on  the  new  dress  I  have  bought  you.  And  Richard  and  I 
will  have  a  cup  of  ale  in  the  study." 

The  visitor  chanced  to  be  Will  Fotheringay  that  time.  He 
was  not  the  only  one  worn  out  with  the  mad  chase  in  Prince 
George  Street,  and  preferred  a  quiet  evening  with  a  quiet 


THE   RED  IN   THE   CARVEL   BLOOD  95 

beauty  to  the  crowded  lists  of  Miss  Manners.  Will  declared 
that  the  other  gallants  were  fools  over  the  rare  touch  of  blue 
in  the  black  hair :  give  him  Miss  Swain's,  quoth  he,  lifting  his 
glass,  —  hers  was  the  colour  of  a  new  sovereign.  Will  was  not 
the  only  one.  But  I  think  Percy  Singleton  was  the  best  of 
them  all,  tho'  Patty  ridiculed  him  every  chance  she  got, 
.  nd  even  to  his  face.  So  will  the  best-hearted  and  soberest  of 
women  play  the  coquette.  Singleton  was  rather  a  reserved 
young  Englishman  of  four  and  twenty,  who  owned  a  large 
estate  in  Talbot,  which  he  was  laying  out  with  great  success. 
Of  a  Whig  family  in  the  old  country,  he  had  been  drawn  to 
that  party  in  the  new,  and  so  had  made  Mr.  Swain's  acquaint- 
ance. The  next  step  in  his  fortunes  was  to  fall  in  love  with 
Patty,  which  was  natural  enough.  Many  a  night  that  winter 
I  walked  with  him  from  Gloucester  Street  to  the  Coffee  House, 
fco  sit  an  hour  over  a  bottle.  And  there  Master  Tom  and  Dr. 
Hamilton,  and  other  gay  macaronies  would  sometimes  join  us. 
Singleton  had  a  greater  contempt  for  Tom  than  I,  but  bore 
with  him  for  his  sister's  sake.  For  Tom,  in  addition  to  his 
other  follies,  was  become  an  open  loyalist,  and  never  missed 
his  Majesty's  health,  though  he  knew  no  better  than  my  Hugo 
the  question  at  issue.  'Twas  not  zeal  for  King  George,  how- 
ever, that  made  him  drunk  at  one  of  the  assemblies,  and 
forced  his  sister  to  leave  in  the  midst  of  a  dance  for  very 
shame. 

"Oh,  Richard,  is  there  not  something  you  can  do?"  she 
cried,  when  I  had  got  her  back  in  the  little  parlour  in  Glouces- 
ter Street ;  "  father  has  argued  and  pleaded  and  threatened 
in  vain.  I  thought,  —  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  help 
him." 

"  I  think  I  am  not  one  to  preach,  or  to  boast,"  I  replied 
soberly. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  looking  grave ;  "  I  know  you  are  wilder 
than  you  used  to  be ;  that  you  play  more  than  you  ought,  and 
higher  than  you  ought." 

I  was  silent. 

"  And  I  suspect  at  whose  door  it  lies,"  said  she. 

"  'Tis  in  the  blood,  Patty,"  I  answered. 


96  EICHARD   CARVEL 

She  glanced  at  me  quickly. 

"  I  know  you  better  than  you  think,"  she  said.  "  But  Tom 
has  not  your  excuse.  And  if  he  had  only  your  faults  I  would 
say  nothing.  He  does  not  care  for  those  he  should,  and  he  is 
forever  in  the  green-room  of  the  theatre." 

I  made  haste  to  change  the  subject,  and  to  give  her  what 
comfort  I  might;  for  she  was  sobbing  before  she  finished. 
And  the  next  day  I  gave  Tom  a  round  talking-to  for  having  so 
little  regard  for  his  sister,  the  hem  of  whose  skirt  he  was  not 
worthy  to  touch.  He  took  it  meekly  enough,  with  a  barrel  of 
pat  excuses  to  come  after.  And  he  asked  me  to  lend  him  my 
phaeton,  that  he  might  go  a-driving  with  Miss  Crane,  of  the 
theatrical  company,  to  Hound  Bay  ! 

Meanwhile  I  saw  Miss  Maujiers  more  frequently  than  was 
good  for  my  peace  of  mind,  and  had  my  turn  as  her  partner 
at  the  balls.  But  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  take  third  or 
fourth  rank  in  the  army  that  attended  her.  I,  who  had  been 
her  playmate,  would  not  become  her  courtier.  Besides,  I  had 
not  the  wit. 

Was  it  strange  that  Dr.  Courtenay  should  pride  himself  upon 
the  discovery  of  a  new  beauty  ?  And  in  the  Coffee  House, 
and  in  every  drawing-room  in  town,  prophesy  for  her  a  career 
of  conquest  such  as  few  could  boast  ?  She  was  already  launched 
upon  that  career.  And  rumour  had  it  that  Mr.  Marmaduke 
was  even  then  considering  taking  her  home  to  London,  where 
the  stage  was  larger  and  the  triumph  greater.  Was  it  surpris- 
ing that  the  Gazette  should  contain  a  poem  with  the  doctor's 
well-known  ear-marks  iipon  it?  It  set  the  town  a-wagging, 
and  left  no  room  for  doubt  as  to  who  had  inspired  it. 

"  Sweet  Pandora,  tho'  formed  of  Clay, 
Was  fairer  than  the  Light  of  Day. 
By  Venus  learned  in  Beauty's  Arts, 
And  destined  thus  to  conquer  Hearts. 
A  Goddess  of  tliis  Town,  I  ween, 
Fair  as  Pandora,  scarce  Sixteen, 
Is  destined,  e'en  by  Jove's  Command, 
To  conquer  all  of  Maryland. 
Oh,  Bachelors,  piay  have  a  Care, 
"For  She  will  all  your  Hearts  ensnare." 


THE   RED   IN   THE   CARVEL   BLOOD  97 

So  it  ran.  I  think,  if  dear  Mrs.  Manners  oould  have  had 
her  way,  Dolly  would  have  passed  that  year  at  a  certain  young 
ladies'  school  in  Xew  York.  But  Mr.  Marniaduke's  pride  in 
his  daughter's  beauty  got  the  better  of  her.  The  strut  in  his 
gait  became  more  marked  the  day  that  poera  appeared,  and  he 
went  to  the  Coffee  House  both  morning  and  evening,  taking 
snuff  to  hide  his  emotions  when  Miss  Manners  was  spoken  of ; 
and  he  was  perceived  by  many  in  Church  Street  arm  in  arm 
with  Dr.  Courtenay  himself. 

As  you  may  have  imagined  before  now,  the  doctor's  profes- 
sion was  leisure,  not  medicine.  He  had  known  ambition  once, 
it  was  said,  and  with  reason,  for  he  had  studied  surgery  in 
Germany  for  the  mere  love  of  the  science.  After  which,  mak- 
ing the  grand  tour  in  France  and  Italy,  he  had  taken  up  that 
art  of  being  a  gentleman  in  which  men  became  so  proficient  in 
my  young  days.  He  had  learned  to  speak  French  like  a  Pari- 
sian, had  hobnobbed  with  wit  and  wickedness  from  Versailles 
to  Rome,  and  then  had  come  back  to  Annapolis  to  set  the 
fashions  and  to  spend  the  fortune  his  uncle  lately  had  left 
him.  He  was  our  censor  of  beauty,  and  passed  judgment 
upon  all  young  ladies  as  they  stepped  into  the  arena.  To  be 
noticed  by  him  meant  success ;  to  be  honoured  in  the  Gazette 
was  to  be  crowned  at  once  a  reigning  belle.  The  chord  of  his 
approval  once  set  a-vibrating,  all  minor  chords  sang  in  har- 
mony. And  it  was  the  doctor  who  raised  the  first  public  toast 
to  Miss  Manners.     Alas  !  I  might  have  known  it  would  be  so ! 

But  Miss  Dorothy  was  not  of  a  nature  to  remain  dependent 
upon  a  censor's  favour.  The  minx  deported  herself  like  any 
London  belle  of  experience,  as  tho'  she  had  known  the  world 
from  her  ^^radle.  She  w^as  not  to  be  deceived  by  the  face 
value  of  the  ladies'  praises,  nor  rebuffed  unmercifully  by  my 
Aunt  Caroline,  who  had  held  the  sceptre  in  the  absence  of  a 
younger  aspirant.  The  first  time  these  ladies  clashed,  which 
was  not  long  in  coming,  my  aunt  met  with  a  wit  as  sharp  again 
as  her  own,  and  never  afterwards  essayed  an  open  tilt.  The 
homage  of  men  Dolly  took  as  Caesar  received  tribute,  as  a 
matter  of  course.  The  doctor  himself  rode  to  the  races  bt^side 
the   Manners   coacb,    leaning   gallantly   over   the   door.      My 

H 


98  RICHARD  CARVEL 

lady  held  court  in  her  father's  box,  received  and  dismissed, 
smiled  and  frowned,  with  Courtenay  as  her  master  of  cere- 
monies. Mr.  Dulany  was  one  of  the  presidents  of  the  Jockey 
Club  that  year,  aud  his  horse  winning  the  honours  he  pre- 
sented her  with  his  colours,  scarlet  and  white,  which  she 
graciously  wore.  The  doctor  swore  he  would  import  a  horse 
the  next  season  on  the  chance  of  the  privilege.  My  aunt  was 
furious.  I-  have  never  mentioned  her  beauty  because  I  never 
could  see  it.  'Twas  a  coarser  type  than  attracted  me.  She 
was  then  not  greatly  above  six  and  thirty,  appearing  young 
for  that  age,  and  she  knew  the  value  of  lead  in  judicious  quan- 
tity. At  that  meet  gentlemen  came  to  her  box  only  to  talk  of 
Miss  Manners,  to  marvel  that  one  so  young  could  have  the  bel 
air,  to  praise  her  beauty  and  addresse,  or  to  remark  how  well 
Mr.  Dulany 's  red  and  white  became  her.  With  all  of  which 
Mrs.  Grafton  was  fain  to  agree,  and  must  even  excel,  until  her 
small  stock  of  patience  was  exhausted.  To  add  to  her  chagrin 
my  aunt  lost  a  pretty  sum  to  the  rector  by  Mr.  Dulany's  horse. 
I  came  upon  her  after  the  race  trying  to  coax  her  head-dress 
through  her  coach  door,  Mr.  Allen  having  tight  hold  of  her 
hand  the  while. 

"  And  so  he  thinks  he  has  found  a  divinity,  does  he  ? "  I 
overheard  her  saying.  ''I,  for  one,  am  heartily  sick  of  Dr. 
Courtenay's  notions.  Were  he  to  choose  a  wench  out  of  the 
King's  passengers  I'd  warrant  our  macaronies  to  compose  odes 
to  her  eyebrows."  And  at  that  moment  perceiving  me  she 
added,  "Why  so  disconsolate,  my  dear  nephew?  Miss  Dolly 
is  the  craze  now,  and  will  last  about  as  long  as  another  of  the 
doctor's  whims.     And  then  you  shall  have  her  to  yourself." 

"  A  pretty  woman  is  ever  the  fashion.  Aunt  Caroline,"  I  said. 

"Hoity-toity,"  returned  my  aunt,  who  had  by  then  succeeded 
in  getting  her  head-gear  safe  within ;  "  the  fashion,  yes,  until 
a  prettier  comes  along." 

"There  is  small  danger  of  that  for  the  present,"  I  said, 
smiling.     "  Surely  you  can  find  no  fault  with  this  choice !  " 

"  Gadzooks !  If  I  were  blind,  sir,  I  think  I  might ! "  she 
cried  unguardedly. 

"  I  will  not  dispute  that,  Aunt  Caroline,"  I  answered. 


THE   EED  IN   THE   CARVEL   BLOOD  99 

And  as  I  rode  off  1  heard  her  giving  directions  in  no  mild 
tone  to  the  coachman  through  Mr.  Allen. 

Perchance  you  did  not  know,  my  dears,  that  Annapolis  had 
the  first  theatre  in  all  the  colonies.  And  if  you  care  to  search 
through  the  heap  of  Maryland  Gazettes  in  the  garret,  I  make 
no  doubt  you  will  come  across  this  announcement  for  a  certain 
night  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1769 :  — 

By  Permission  of  his  Excellency,  the  Governor, 

at  the  New  Theatre  in  Annapolis, 

by  the  American  Company  of  Comedians,  on  Monday 

next,  being  the  22nd  of  this  Instant,  will  be  performed 

ROMEO   AND   JULIET. 

(Romeo  by  a  young  Gentleman  for  his  Diversion.) 
Likewise  the  Farce  called 

Miss  in  hkr  Teens. 

To  begin  precisely  at  Seven  of  the  Clock.     Tickets 

to  be  had  at  the  Printing  Oifice.     Box  10s.     Pit  Is  6d. 

No  Person  to  be  admitted  behind  the  Scenes. 

The  gentleman  to  perform  Eomeo  was  none  other  than  Dr. 
Courtenay  himself.  He  had  a  gentlemanly  passion  for  the 
stage,  as  was  the  fashion  in  those  days,  and  had  organized 
many  private  theatricals.  The  town  was  in  a  ferment  over 
the  event,  boxes  being  taken  a  week  ahead.  The  doctor  him- 
self writ  the  epilogue,  to  be  recited  by  the  beautiful  Mrs. 
Hallam,  who  had  inspired  him  the  year  before  to  compose 
that  famous  poem  beginning :  — 

"  Around  her  see  the  Graces  play, 

See  Venus'  Wanton  doves, 
And  in  her  Eye's  Pellucid  Ray 

See  little  Laughing  Loves. 
Ye  gods  !    'Tis  Cytherea's  Face." 

You  may  find  that  likewise  in  Mr.  Green's  newspaper. 

The  new  theatre  was  finished  in  West  Street  that  spring, 
the  old  one  having  proven  too  small  for  our  gay  capital. 
'Twas  then  the  best  in  the  New  World,  the  censor  having 
pronounced  it  far  above  any  provincial  playhouse  he  had  seen 


100  RICHARD  CARVEL 

abroad.  The  scenes  were  very  fine,  tlie  boxes  carved  and 
gilded  in  excellent  good  taste,  and  both  pit  and  gallery  com- 
modious. And  we,  too,  had  our  "  Fops'  Alley,"  where  our 
macaronies  ogled  the  fair  and  passed  from  box  to  box, 

For  that  night  of  nights  when  the  doctor  acted  I  received  an 
invitation  from  Dolly  to  Mr.  Marmaduke's  box,  and  to  supper 
afterward  in  Prince  George  Street.  When  I  arrived,  the  play- 
house was  lit  with  myriad  candles,  —  to  be  snuffed  save  the 
footlights  presently,  —  and  the  tiers  were  all  brilliant  with 
the  costumes  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  Miss  Tayloe  and  Miss 
Dulany  were  of  ^ur  party,  with  Fitzhugh  and  Worthington, 
and  Mr.  Manners  for  propriety.  The  little  fop  spent  his 
evening,  by  the  way,  in  a  box  opposite,  where  my  Aunt 
Caroline  gabbled  to  him  and  Mr.  Allen  during  the  whole  per- 
formance. My  lady  got  more  looks  than  any  in  the  house. 
She  always  dre^;  admiration,  indeed,  but  there  had  been  much 
speculation  of  late  whether  she  favoured  Dr.  Courtenay  or 
Fitzhugh,  and  some  had  it  that  the  doctor's  acting  would 
decide  between  the  two. 

When  Romeo  came  upon  the  stage  he  was  received  with 
loud  applause.  But  my  lady  showed  no  interest,  —  not  she,  — 
while  the  doctor  fervently  recited,  "  Out  of  her  favour,  where 
I  am  in  love."  In  the  first  orchard  scene,  with  the  boldness 
of  a  practised  lover,  he  almost  ignored  Mrs.  Hallam  in  the 
balcony.  It  seemed  as  though  he  cast  his  burning  words  and 
languishing  glances  at  my  lady  in  the  box,  whereupon  there 
,  was  a  deal  of  nudging  round  about.  Miss  asked  for  her 
smelling  salts,  and  declared  the  place  was  stifling.  But  I 
think  if  the  doctor  had  cherished  a  hope  of  her  affections  he 
lost  it  when  he  arrived  at  the  lines,  "She  speaks,  yet  she  says 
nothing."  At  that  unhappy  moment  Miss  Dorothy  was  deep 
in  conversation  with  Fitzhugh,  the  audible  titter  in  the  audi- 
ence arousing  her.  How  she  reddened  when  she  perceived 
the  faces  turned  her  way ! 

"What  was  it,  Betty?"  she  demanded  quickly. 

But  Betty  was  not  spiteful,  and  would  not  tell.  Fitzhugh 
himself  explained,  and  to  his  sorrow,  for  .luring  the  rest  of  the 
evening  she  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.     Presently 


THE  RED   IN   THE  CARVEL   BLOOD  101 

she  turned  to  me.  Glancing  upward  to  where  Patty  leaned  on 
the  rail  between  Will  Fotheringay  and  Singleton,  she  whis- 
pered :  — 

"I  wonder  you  can  sit  here  so  quiet,  Richard.  You  are 
showing  a  deal  of  self-denial." 

"  I  am  happy  enough,"  1  answered,  surprised. 

"  I  hear  you  have  a  rival,"  says  she. 

"  I  know  I  have  a  dozen,"  I  answered. 

"  I  saw  Percy  Singleton  walking  with  her  in  Mr.  Galloway's 
fields  but  yesterday,"  said  Dolly,  "and  as  they  came  out 
upon  the  road  they  looked  as  guilty  as  if  I  had  surprised  them 
arm  in  arm." 

Now  that  she  should  think  I  cared  for  Patty  never  entered 
my  head.     I  was  thrown  all  in  a  heap. 

"  You  need  not  be  so  disturbed,"  whispers  my  lady.  "  Sin- 
gleton has  a  crooked  mouth,  and  I  credit  Patty  with  ample 
sense  to  choose  between  you.  I  adore  her,  Richard.  I  wish  I 
had  her  sweet  ways." 

"  But,"  I  interrupted,  when  I  was  somewhat  recovered, 
"  why  should  3^ou  think  me  in  love  with  Patty  ?  I  have  never 
been  accused  of  that  before." 

"  Oh,  fie !  You  deny  her  ?  "  says  Dolly.  "  I  did  not  think 
that  of  you,  Richard." 

"You  should  know  better,"  I  replied,  with  some  bitterness. 

We  were  talking  in  low  tones,  Dolly  with  her  head  turned 
from  the  stage,  whence  the  doctor  was  flinging  his  impassioned 
speeches  in  vain.  And  though  the  light  fell  not  upon  her 
face,  I  seemed  to  feel  her  looking  me  through  and  through. 

"  You  do  not  care  for  Patty  ?"  she  Avhispered.  And  I  thought 
a  quiver  of  earnestness  was  in  her  voice.  Her  face  was  so 
close  to  mine  that  her  breath  fanned  my  cheek. 

"No,"  I  said.  "Why  do  you  ask  me?  Have  I  ever  been 
one  to  make  pretences  ?  " 

She  turned  away. 

"But  you,"  I  said,  bending  to  her  ear,  "is  it  Fitzhugh,  Doro- 
thy?" 

I  heard  her  laugh  softly. 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  I  thought  you  might  divine,  sir.*' 


102  KICHAED  CARVEL 

Was  it  possible?  And  yet  she  liad  played  so  much  with 
me  that  I  dared  not  risk  the  fire.  She  had  too  many  accom- 
plished gallants  at  her  feet  to  think  of  Richard,  who  had  no 
novelty  and  no  wit.  I  sat  still,  barely  conscious  of  the  rising 
and  falling  voices  beyond  the  footlights,  feeling  only  her  living 
presence  at  my  side.  She  spoke  not  another  word  until  the 
playhouse  servants  had  relighted  the  chandeliers,  and  Dr. 
Courtenay  came  in,  flushed  with  triumph,  for  his  mead  of 
praise. 

"And  how  went  it,  Miss  Manners  ?  "  says  he,  very  confident. 

"Why,  you  fell  over  the  orchard  wall,  doctor,"  retorts  my 
lady.     "La!  I  believe  I  could  have  climbed  it  better  myself." 

And  all  he  got  was  a  hearty  laugh  for  his  pains,  Mr.  Mar- 
maduke  joining  in  from  the  back  of  the  box.  And  the  story 
was  at  the  Coffee  House  early  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  XI 

A   FESTIVAL   AND   A    PARTING 

My  grandfather  and  I  were  seated  at  table  together.  It  was 
eurly  June,  the  birds  were  singing  in  the  garden,  and  the  sweet 
odours  of  the  flowers  were  wafted  into  the  room. 

"Richard,"  says  he,  when  Scipio  had  poured  his  claret. 
"  my  illness  cheated  you  out  of  your  festival  last  year.  I  dare 
swear  you  deem  yourself  too  old  for  birthdays  now." 

I  laughed. 

"So  it  is  with  lads,"  said  Mr.  Carvel;  "they  will  rush  into 
manhood  as  heedless  as  you  please.  Take  my  counsel,  boy, 
and  remain  young.  Do  not  cross  the  bridge  before  you  have 
to.  And  I  have  been  thinking  that  we  shall  have  your  f§te 
this  year,  albeit  you  are  grown,  and  Miss  Dolly  is  the  belle  of 
the  province.  'Tis  like  sunshine  into  my  old  heart  to  see  the 
lads  and  lasses  again,  and  to  hear  the  merry,  merry  fiddling 
I  will  have  his  new  Excellency,  who  seems  a  good  and  a  kindly 
man,  and  Lloyd  and  Tilghman  and  Dulany  and  the  rest,  with 
their  ladies,  to  sit  Avith  me.  And  there  will  be  plenty  of  punch 
and  syllabub  and  sangaree,  I  warrant;  and  tarts  and  jellies  and 
custards,  too,  for  the  misses.     Ring  for  Mrs.  Willis,  my  son." 

Willis  came  with  her  curtsey  to  the  old  gentleman,  who 
gave  his  order  then  and  there.  He  never  waited  for  a  fancy 
of  this  kind  to  grow  cold. 

"We  shall  all  be  children  again,  on  that  day,  Mrs.  Willis," 
says  he.  "And  I  catch  any  old  people  about,  they  shall  be 
thrust  straight  in  the  town  stocks,  i'  faith." 

Willis  made  another  curtsey. 

"We  missed  it  sorely,  last  year,  please  your  honour,"  says 
she,  and  departs  smiling. 

103 


104  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"And  you  shall  have  your  Patty  Swain,  Richard,"  Mr.  Car- 
vel continued.  "  Do  you  mind  liow  you  once  asked  the  favour  of 
inviting  her  in  the  place  of  a  present?  Oons !  I  loved  you  for 
that,  boy.  'Twas  like  a  Carvel.  And  I  love  that  lass,  Whig 
or  no  Whig.  'Ron  my  soul,  I  do.  She  hath  demureness  and 
dignity,  and  suits  me  better  than  yon  whimsical  baggage  you 
are  all  mad  over.  I'll  have  Mr.  Swain  beside  me,  too.  I'll 
warrant  I'd  teach  his  daughter  loyalty  in  a  day,  and  I  had 
again  your  years  and  your  spirit!  " 

I  have  but  to  close  my  eyes,  and  my  fancy  takes  me  back  to 
that  birthday  festival.  Think  of  it,  my  dears!  Near  three- 
score years  are  gone  since  then,  when  this  old  man  you  call 
grandfather,  and  some  — bless  me! —  great-grandfather,  was  a 
lusty  lad  like  Comyn  here.  But  his  hand  is  steady  as  he 
writes  these  words  and  his  head  clear,  because  he  hath  not 
greatly  disabused  that  life  which  God  has  given  him. 

How  can  I,  tho'  her  face  and  form  are  painted  on  my  mem- 
ory, tell  you  Avhat  fair,  pert  Miss  Dorothy  was  at  that  time? 
Ay,  I  know  what  you  would  say:  that  Sir  Joshua's  portrait 
hangs  above,  executed  but  the  year  after,  and  hung  at  the  sec- 
ond exhibition  of  the  Royal  Academy.     As  I  look  upoa  it  now, 
I  say  that  no  whit  of  its  colour  is  overcharged.     And  there  is 
likewise  Mr.  Peale's  portrait,  done  much  later.     I  answer  that 
these  great  masters  have  accomplished  what  poor,  human  art 
can  do.     But  Nature  hath  given  us  a  better  picture.     "  Come 
hither,  Bess !     Yes,  truly,  you  have  Dolly's  hair,  with  the  very 
gloss  upon  it.     But  fashions  have  changed,  my  child,  and  that 
is  not  as  Dolly  wore  it."     Whereupon  Bess  goes  to  the  por- 
trait, and  presently  comes  back  to  give  me  a  start.     And  then 
we  go  hand  in  hand  up  the  stairs  of  Calvert  House  even  to  the 
garret,  where  an  old  cedar  chest  is  laid  away  under  the  eaves. 
Bess,  the  minx,  well  knows  it,  and  takes  out  a  prim  little  gown 
with  the  white  fading  yellow,   and  white  silk  Inits  without 
fingers,  and  white  stockings  with  clocks,  and  a  gauze  cap,  Avith 
wings  and  streamers,  that  sits  saucily  on  the  black  locks ;  and 
the  lawn-embroidered  apron;    and  such  dainty,    high-heeled 
slippers  with  the  pearls  still  a-glisten  upon  the  buckles.     Away 
she  flies  to  put  them  on.     And  then  my  heart  gives  a  leap  to 


A  FESTIVAL   AND  A  PARTmG  10b 

Bce  my  Dorothy  back  again, — back  again  as  she  was  tiiat  June 
afternoon  we  went  togetlier  to  my  last  birthday  party,  her  girl- 
ish arms  bare  to  the  elbow,  and  the  lace  about  her  slender 
throat.  Yes,  Bess  hath  the  very  tilt  of  her  chin,  the  regal  grace 
of  that  slim  figure,  and  the  deep  blue  eyes. 

"Grandfather,  dear,  you  are  crushing  the  gown!" 

And  so  the  fire  is  not  yet  gone  out  of  this  old  frame. 

Ah,  yes,  there  they  are  again,  those  unpaved  streets  of  old 
Annapolis  arched  with  great  trees  on  either  side.  And  here  is 
Dolly,  holding  her  skirt  in  one  hand  and  her  fan  in  the  other, 
and  I  in  a  brave  blue  coat,  and  pumps  with  gold  buttons,  and  a 
cocked  hat  of  the  newest  fashion.  I  had  met  her  leaning  over 
the  gate  in  Prince  George  Street.  And,  what  was  strange  for 
her,  so  deep  in  thought  that  she  jumped  when  I  spoke  her 
name. 

"  Dorothy,  I  have  come  for  you  to  walk  to  the  party,  as  we 
used  when  we  were  children." 

"As  we  iised  when  we  were  children!"  cried  she.  And 
flinging  wide  the  gate,  stretched  out  her  hand  for  me  to  take. 
"And  you  are  eighteen  years  to-day!  It  seems  but  last  year 
when  we  skipped  hand  in  hand  to  Marlboro'  Street  with  Mammy 
Lucy  behind  us.     Are  you  coming,  mammy  ?  "  she  called. 

"Yes,  mistis,  I'se  comin',"  said  a  voice  from  behind  the 
golden-rose  bushes,  and  out  stepped  Aunt  Lucy  in  a  new  tur- 
ban, making  a  curtsey  to  me.  "La,  Marse  Eichard!"  said 
she,  "to  think  you'se  growed  to  be  a  fine  gemman!  'Taint 
but  t'other  day  you  was  kissin'  Miss  Dolly  on  de  plantation." 

"  It  seems  longer  than  that  to  me,  Aunt  Lucy,"  I  answered, 
laughing  at  Dolly's  bluf^hes. 

"  You  have  too  good  a  memory,  mammy,"  said  my  lady,  with- 
drawing her  fingers  from  mine. 

"Bress  you,  honey!  De  ole  woman  doan't  forgit  some 
things." 

And  she  fell  back  to  a  respectful  six  paces. 

"'  Those  were  happy  times,"  said  Dorothy.  Then  the  little 
sigh  became  a  laugh.  "I  mean  to  enjoy  myself  to-day,  Rich- 
ard. But  I  fear  I  shall  not  see  as  much  of  you  as  I  used.  You 
are  old  enough  to  play  the  host,  now." 


106  EICHAED  CAEVEL 

"  You  shall  see  as  much  as  you  -will." 

"  Where  have  you  been  of  late,  sir  ?  In  Gloucester 
Street  ? " 

"  'Tis  your  own  fault,  Dolly.  You  are  changeable  as  the 
sky,  —  to-day  sunny,  and  to-morrow  cold.  I  am  sure  of  my  wel- 
come in  Gloucester  Street." 

She  tripped  a  step  as  we  turned  the  corner,  and  came  closer 
to  my  side. 

"  You  must  learn  to  take  me  as  you  find  me,  dear  Eichard. 
To-day  I  am  in  a  holiday  humour." 

Some  odd  note  in  her  tone  troubled  me,  and  I  glanced  at  her 
quickly.  She  was  a  constant  wonder  and  puzzle  to  me.  After 
that  night  at  the  theatre  my  hopes  had  risen  for  the  hundredth 
time,  but  I  had  gone  to  Prince  George  Street  on  the  morrow 
to  meet  another  rebuff  —  and  Fitzhugh.  So  I  had  learned  to 
interpret  her  by  other  means  than  words,  and  now  her  mood 
seemed  reckless  rather  than  merry. 

"  Are  you  not  happy,  Dolly  ?  "  I  asked  abruptly. 

She  laughed.  "  What  a  silly  question !  "  she  said.  "  Why 
do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  I  believe  you  are  not." 

In  surprise  she  looked  up  at  me,  and  then  down  at  the 
pearls  upon  her  satin  slippers. 

"  I  am  going  with  you  to  -your  birthday  festival,  Eichard. 
Could  we  wish  for  more  ?     I  am  as  happy  as  you." 

"  That  may  well  be,  for  I  might  be  happier." 

Again  her  eyes  met  mine,  and  she  hummed  an  air.  So  we 
came  to  the  gate,  beside  which  stood  Diomedes  and  Hugo  in 
the  family  claret-red.  A  coach  was  drawn  up,  and  another 
behind  it,  and  we  went  down  the  leafy  walk  in  the  midst  of  a 
bevy  of  guests. 

We  have  no  such  places  nowadays,  my  dears,  as  was  my 
grandfather's.  The  ground  between  the  street  and  the  brick 
wall  in  the  rear  was  a  great  stretch,  as  ample  in  acreage  as 
many  a  small  country-place  we  have  in  these  times.  The 
house  was  on  the  high  land  in  front,  hedged  in  by  old  trees, 
and  thence  you  descended  by  stately  tiers  until  you  came  to 
the  level  which  held  the  dancers.     Beyond  that,  and   lower 


A  FESTIVAL   AND   A  PARTING  107 

still,  a  lilied  pond  widened  out  of  the  sluggish  brook  with  a 
cool  and  rustic  spring-house  at  one  end.  The  spring-house 
was  thatched,  with  windows  looking  out  upon  the  water. 
Long  after,  when  I  went  to  France,  I  was  reminded  of  the  shy 
beauty  of  this  part  of  my  old  home  by  the  secluded  pond  of 
the  Little  Trianon.  So  was  it  that  King  Louis's  Versailles 
had  spread  its  influence  a  thousand  leagues  to  our  youthful 
continent. 

My  grandfather  sat  in  his  great  chair  on  the  sward  beside 
the  fiddlers,  his  old  friends  gathering  around  him,  as  in  former 
years. 

"And  this  is  the  miss  that  hath  already  broken  half  the 
bachelor  hearts  in  town!"  said  he,  gayly.  "What  was  my 
prediction,  Miss  Dolly,  when  you  stepped  your  first  dance  at 
Carvel  Hall  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  you  do  me  wrong,  Mr.  Carvel ! " 

"  And  I  were  a  buck,  you  would  not  break  mine,  I  warrant, 
unless  it  were  tit  for  tat,"  said  my  grandfather;  thereby 
putting  me  to  more  confusion  than  Dolly,  who  laughed  with 
the  rest. 

"  'Tis  well  to  boast,  Mr.  Carvel,  when  we  are  out  of  the 
battle,"  cried  Mr.  Lloyd. 

Dolly  was  carried  off  immediately,  as  I  expected.  The 
doctor  and  Worthington  and  Fitzhugh  were  already  there, 
and  waiting.  I  stood  by  Mr.  Carvel's  chair,  receiving  the 
guests,  and  presently  came  Mr.  Swain  and  Patty. 

"  Heigho ! "  called  Mr.  Carvel,  when  he  saw  her ;  "  here  is 
the  young  lady  that  hath  my  old  affections.  You  are  right 
welcome,  Mr.  Swain.  Scipio,  another  chair !  'Tis  not  over 
the  wall  any  more.  Miss  Patty,  with  our  flowered  India  silk. 
But  I  vow  I  love  you  best  with  your  etui." 

Patty,  too,  was  carried  off,  for  you  may  be  sure  that  Will 
Fotheringay  and  Singleton  were  standing  on  one  foot  and  then 
the  other,  waiting  for  Mr.  Carvel  to  have  done.  Next  arrived 
my  aunt,  in  a  wide  calash  and  a  wider  hoop,  her  stays  laced 
so  that  she  limped,  and  her  hair  wonderfully  and  fearfully 
arranged  by  her  Frenchman.  Neither  she  nor  Grafton  was 
■slow   to   shower   congratulations    upon    my   grandfather   and 


108  RICHARD   CARVEL 

myself.  Mr.  Marmaduke  went  through  the  ceremony  aftei 
them.  Dorothy's  mother  drew  me  aside.  As  long  as  I  could 
remember  her  face  had  been  one  that  revealed  a  life's  disap* 
pointment.  But  to-day  I  thought  it  bore  a  trace  of  a  deeper 
anxiety. 

"How  well  I  recall  this  day,  eighteen  years  ago,  Richard," 
she  said.  "And  how  proud  your  dear  mother  was  that  she 
had  given  a  son  to  Captain  Jack.  She  had  prayed  for  a  son. 
I  hope  you  will  always  do  your  parents  credit,  my  dear  boy. 
They  were  both  dear,  dear  friends  of  mine." 

My  Aunt  Caroline's  harsher  voice  interrupted  her. 

"Gadzooks,  ma'am!"  she  cried,  as  she  approached  us,  "1 
have  never  in  my  life  laid  eyes  upon  such  beauty  as  your 
daughter's.  You  will  have  to  take  her  home,  Mrs.  Manners, 
to  do  her  justice.  You  owe  it  her,  ma'am.  Come,  nephew,  off 
with  you,  and  head  the  minuet  with  Miss  Dolly! " 

My  grandfather  was  giving  the  word  to  the  fiddlers.  But 
whether  a  desire  to  cross  my  aunt  held  me  back,  or  a  sense  of 
duty  to  greet  the  guests  not  already  come,  or  a  vague  intui- 
tion of  some  impending  news  drawn  from  Mrs.  Manners  and 
Dorothy,  I  know  not.  Mr.  Fitzhugh  was  easily  persuaded 
to  take  my  place,  and  presently  I  slipped  unnoticed  into  a 
shaded  seat  on  the  side  of  the  upper  terrace,  whence  I  could 
see  the  changing  figures  on  the  green.  And  I  thought  of  the 
birthday  festivals  Dolly  and  I  had  spent  here,  almost  since  we 
were  of  an  age  to  walk.  Wet  June  days,  when  the  broad 
wings  of  the  hovise  rang  with  the  sound  of  silver  laughter  and 
pattering  feet,  and  echoed  with  music  from  the  hall;  and 
merry  June  days,  when  the  laughter  rippled  among  the  lilacs, 
and  pansies  and  poppies  and  sweet  peas  were  outshone  by 
bright  gowns  and  brighter  faces.  And  then,  as  if  to  complete 
the  picture  of  the  past,  my  eye  fell  upon  our  mammies  mod- 
estly seated  behind  the  group  of  older  people,  Aunt  Hester 
and  Aunt  Lucy,  their  honest  black  faces  aglow  with  such 
unselfish  enjoyment  as  they  alone  could  feel. 

How  easily  I  marked  Dorothy  among  the  throng! 

Other  girls  found  it  hard  to  compress  the  spirits  of  youth 
within  the  dignity  of  a  minuet,   and  thought  of  the  childish 


A  FESTIVAL   AND   A  PARTING  109 

romp  of  former  years.  Not  so  my  lady.  Long  afterwards  1 
saw  her  lead  a  ball  with  the  first  soldier  and  gentleman  of  the 
land,  but  on  that  Tuesday  she  carried  herself  full  as  well,  — ■ 
so  well  that  his  Excellency  and  the  gentlemen  about  him  ap- 
plauded heartily.  As  the  strains  died  away  and  tlie  couples 
moved  off  among  the  privet-lined  patlis,  I  went  slowly  down 
the  terrace.  Dorothy  had  come  up  to  speak  to  her  mother,  Dr. 
Courtenay  lingering  impatient  at  her  side.  And  though  her 
colour  glowed  deeper,  and  the  Avind  had  loosed  a  wisp  of 
her  hair,  she  took  his  Excellency's  compliments  undisturbed. 
Colonel  Sharpe,  our  former  governor,  who  now  made  his 
home  in  the  province,  sat  beside  him. 

"Now  where  a-deuce  were  you,  Richard?"  said  he.  "You 
have  missed  as  pleasing  a  sight  as  comes  to  a  man  in  a  life- 
time. Why  were  you  not  here  to  see  Miss  Manners  tread  a 
minuet?  My  word!  Terpsichore  herself  could  scarce  have 
made  it  go  better." 

"I  saw  the  dance,  sir,  from  a  safe  distance,"  I  replied. 

"I'll  warrant! "  said  he,  laughing,  while  Dolly  shot  me  a 
wayward  glance  from  under  her  long  lashes.  "I'll  warrant 
your  eyes  were  fast  on  her  from  beginning  to  end.  Come,  sir, 
confess !  " 

His  big  frame  shook  with  the  fun  of  it,  for  none  in  the 
colony  could  be  jollier  than  he  on  holiday  occasions:  and 
the  group  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  beside  him  caught  the  in- 
fection, so  that  I  was  sore  put  to  it. 

"Will  your  Excellency  confess  likewise?"  I  demanded. 

"  So  I  will,  Richard,  and  make  patent  to  all  the  world  that 
she  hath  the  remains  of  that  shuttlecock,  mv  heart." 

Up  gets  his  Excellency  (for  so  we  still  called  him)  and 
makes  Dolly  a  low  reverence,  kissing  the  tips  of  her  white 
fingers.     My  lady  drops  a  mock  curtsey  in  return. 

"  Your  Excellency  can  do  no  less  than  sue  for  a  dance,'' 
drawled  Dr.  Courtenay. 

"  And  no  more,  I  fear,  sir,  not  being  so  nimble  as  I  once  was. 
I  resign  in  your  favour,  doctor,"  said  Colonel  Sharpe. 

Dr.  Courtenay  made  his  bow,  his  hat  tucked  under  his 
arm.     But   he   had  much  to  learn  of   Miss   Manners    if  he 


110  EICHAED   CARVEL 

thought  that  even  one  who  had  been  governor  of  the  prov 
ince  could  command  her.  The  music  was  just  begun  again, 
and  I  making  off  in  the  direction  of  Patty  Swain,  when  I 
was  brouglit  up  as  suddenly  as  by  a  rope.  A  curl  was  upon 
Dorothy's  lips. 

"The  dance  belongs  to  Richard,  doctor,"  she  said. 

"  Egad,  Courtenay,  there  you  have  a  buffer ! "  cried  Colonel 
Sharpe,  as  the  much-discomtited  doctor  bowed  with  a  very  ill 
grace;  while  I,  in  no  small  bewilderment,  walked  off  with 
Dorothy.  And  a  parting  shot  of  the  delighted  colonel 
brought  the  crimson  to  my  face.  Like  the  wind  or  April 
weather  was  my  lady,  and  her  ways  far  beyond  such  a  great 
simpleton  as  I. 

"So  I  am  ever  forced  to  ask  you  to  dance!"  said  Dolly. 
"  What  were  you  about,  moping  off  alone,  with  a  party  in  your 
honour,  sir?  " 

"I  was  watching  you,  as  I  told  his  Excellency." 

"  Oh,  fie ! "  she  cried.  "  Why  don't  you  assert  yourself, 
Richard?     There  was  a  time  when  you  gave  me  no  peace." 

"And  then  you  rebuked  me  for  dangling,"  I  retorted. 

Up  started  the  music,  the  fiddlers  bending  over  their  bows 
with  flushed  faces,  having  dipped  into  the  cool  punch  in 
the  interval.  Away  flung  my  lady  to  meet  Singleton,  while  I 
swung  Patty,  who  squeezed  my  hand  in  return.  And  soon  we 
were  in  the  heat  of  it,  —  sober  minuet  no  longer,  but  romp  and 
riot,  the  screams  of  the  lasses  a-mingle  with  our  own  laughter, 
as  we  spun  them  until  they  were  dizzy.  My  brain  was  a-whirl 
as  well,  and  presently  I  awoke  to  find  Dolly  pinching  my  arm. 

"Have  you  forgotten  me,  Richard?"  she  whispered.  "My 
other  hand,  sir.     It  is  'down  the  middle.'" 

Down  we  flew  between  the  laughing  lines,  Dolly  tripping 
with  her  head  high,  and  then  back  under  the  clasped  hands 
in  the  midst  of  a  fire  of  raillery.  Then  the  music  stopped. 
Some  strange  exhilaration  was  in  Dorothy. 

"Do  you  remember  the  place  where  I  used  to  play  fairy 
godmother,  and  wind  the  flowers  into  my  hair?"  said  she. 

What  need  to  ask? 

"  Come ! "  she  commanded  decisively.. 


A  FESTIVAL   AND   A  PARTING  111 

"  With  all  my  heart ! "  I  exclaimed,  wondering  at  this  new 
caprice. 

"  If  we  can  but  slip  away  unnoticed,  they  will  never  find 
us  there,"  she  said.  And  led  the  way  herself,  silent.  At 
length  we  came  to  the  damp  shade  where  the  brook  dived 
under  the  corner  of  the  wall.  I  stooped  to  gather  the  lilies 
of  the  valley,  and  she  wove  them  into  her  hair  as  of  old. 
Suddenly  she  stopped,  the  bunch  poised  in  her  hand. 

"  Would  you  miss  me  if  I  went  away,  Richard  ?  "  she  asked, 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Dolly  ?  "  I  cried,  my  voice  failing. 

"  Just  that,"  said  she. 

"I  would  miss  you,  and  sorely,  tho'  you  give  me  trouble 
enough." 

"  Soon  I  shall  not  be  here  to  trouble  you,  Richard.  Papa 
has  decided  that  we  sail  next  week,  on  the  Annajjolis,  for 
home." 

"  Home ! "  I  gasped.     "  England  ?  " 

"I  am  going  to  make  my  bow  to  royalty,"  replied  she, 
dropping  a  deep  curtsey.  "  '  Your  Majesty,  this  is  Miss  Man- 
ners, of  the  province  of  Maryland ! ' " 

"  But  next  week  ! "  I  repeated,  with  a  blank  face.  "  Surely 
you  cannot  be  ready  for  the  Annapolis!^' 

"  McAndrews  has  instructions  to  send  our  things  after,"  said 
she.  "  There !  You  are  the  first  person  I  have  told.  You 
should  feel  honoured,  sir." 

I  sat  down  upon  the  grass  by  the  brook,  and  for  the  moment 
the  sap  of  life  seemed  to  have  left  me.  Dolly  continued  to 
twine  the  flowers.  Through  the  trees  sifted  the  voices  and 
the  music,  sounds  of  happiness  far  away.  When  I  looked 
up  again,  she  was  gazing  into  the  water. 

"  Are  you  glad  to  go  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Of  course,"  answered  the  minx,  readily.  "  I  shall  see  the 
world,  and  meet  people  of  consequence." 

"  So  you  are  going  to  England  to  meet  people  of  conse- 
quence ! "  I  cried  bitterly. 

"  How  provincial  you  are,  Richard !  What  people  of  conse- 
quence have  we  here  ?    The   Governor  and  the   honourable 


112  RICHARD   CARVEL 

members  of  his  Council,  forsooth !  There  is  not  a  title  save 
his  Excellency's  in  our  whole  colony,  and  Virginia  is  scarce 
better  provided." 

In  spite  of  my  feeling  I  was  fain  to  laugh  at  this,  knowing 
well  that  she  had  culled  it  all  from  little  Mr.  Marmaduke 
himself. 

"  All  in  good  time,"  said  I.  "  We  shall  have  no  lack  of 
noted  men  presently." 

"  Mere  twopenny  heroes,"  she  retorted.  "I  know  your  great 
men,  such  as  Mr.  Henry  and  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Adams." 

I  began  pulling  up  the  grass  savagely  by  the  roots. 

"  I'll  lay  a  hundred  guineas  you  have  no  regrets  at  leaving 
any  of  us,  my  fine  miss  ! "  I  cried,  getting  to  my  feet.  "  You 
would  rather  be  a  lady  of  fashion  than  have  the  love  of  an 
honest  man,  —  you  who  have  the  hearts  of  too  many  as  it  is." 

Her  eyes  lighted,  but  with  mirth.  Laughing,  she  chose  a 
little  bunch  of  the  lilies  and  worked  them  into  my  coat. 

''  Richard,  you  silly  goose  ! "  she  said  ;  "  I  dote  upon  seeing 
you  in  a  temper." 

I  stood  between  anger  and  God  knows  what  other  feelings, 
now  starting  away,  now  coming  back  to  her.  But  I  always 
came  back. 

"You  have  ever  said  you  would  marry  an  earl,  Dolly,"  I 
said  sadly.  "I  believe  you  do  net  care  for  any  of  us  one 
little  bit." 

She  turned  away,  so  that  for  the  moment  I  could  not  see 
her  face,  then  looked  at  me  with  exquisite  archness  over  her 
shoulder.  The  low  tones  of  her  voice  were  of  a  richness 
indescribable.     'Twas  seldom  she  made  use  of  them. 

"  You  will  be  coming  to  Oxford,  Richard." 

"  I  lear  not,  Dolly,"  I  replied  soberly.  "  I  fear  not,  now. 
Mr.  Carvel  is  too  feeble  for  me  to  leave  him." 

At  that  she  turned  to  me,  another  mood  coming  like  a  gust 
of  wind  on  the  Chesapeake. 

"  Oh,  how  I  wish  they  were  all  like  you ! "  she  cried,  with  a 
stamp  of  her  foot.  "  Sometimes  I  despise  gallantry.  I  hate 
the  smooth  compliments  of  your  macaronies.  I  thank  Heaven 
you  are  big  and  honest  anr"  clumsy  and  —  " 


A  FESTIVAL  AND  A  PARTING  113 

"  And  what,  Dorothy  ?  "  I  asked,  bewildered. 
"  And  stupid,"  said  she.     "  Now  take  me  back,  sir.'' 
We  had  not  gone  thirty  paces  before  we  heard  a  hearty  bass 
voice  singing :  — ■ 

"  '  It  was  a  lover  and  his  lass, 
With  a  hey,  with  a  ho,  with  a  hey  nonino.'  " 

And  there  was  Colonel  Sharpe,  straying  along  among  the 
privet  hedges. 

And  so  the  morning  of  her  sailing  came,  so  full  of  sadness 
for  me.  Why  not  confess,  after  nigh  threescore  years,  that 
break  of  day  found  me  pacing  the  deserted  dock.  At  my  back, 
across  the  open  space,  was  the  irregular  line  of  quaint,  top- 
heavy  shops  since  passed  away,  their  sightles'^  windows  barred 
by  solid  shutters  of  oak.  The  good  ship  AanapoUs,  which  was 
to  carry  my  playmate  to  broader  scenes,  lay  among  the  ship- 
ping, in  the  gray  roads  just  quickening  with  returning  light. 
How  my  heart  ached  that  morning  none  shall  ever  know. 
But,  as  the  sun  shot  a  burning  line  across  the  water,  a  new 
salt  breeze  sprang  up  and  fanned  a  hope  into  flame.  'Twas 
the  very  breeze  that  was  to  blow  Dorothy  down  the  bay. 
Sleepy  apprentices  took  down  the  shutters,  and  polished  the 
windows  until  they  shone  again ;  and  chipper  Mr.  Denton 
Jacques,  who  did  such  a  thriving  business  opposite,  presently 
appeared  to  wish  me  a  bright  good  morning. 

I  knew  that  Captain  Waring  proposed  to  sail  at  ten  of  the 
clock ;  but  after  breakfasting,  I  was  of  two  minds  whether  to 
see  the  last  of  Miss  Dorothy,  foreseeing  a  levee  in  her  honour 
upon  the  ship.  And  so  it  proved.  I  had  scarce  set  out  in  a 
pungy  from  the  dock,  when  I  perceived  a  dozen  boats  about 
the  packet;  and  when  I  thrust  my  shoulders  through  the 
gangway,  there  was  the  company  gathered  at  the  mainmast. 
They  made  a  gay  bit  of  colour,  —  Dr.  Courtenay  in  a  green  coat 
laced  with  fine  Mechlin,  Fitzhugh  in  claret  and  silk  stockings 
of  a  Quaker  gray,  and  the  other  gentlemen  as  smartly  drest. 
The  Dulany  girls  and  the  Fotheringay  girls,  and  I  know  not 
how  many  others,  were  there  to  see  their  friend  off  for  home. 
I 


114  RICHAED   CARVEL 

In  the  midst  of  them  was  Dorothy,  in  a  crimson  silk  capuchin, 
for  we  had  had  one  of  our  changes  of  weather.  It  was  she 
who  spied  me  as  I  was  drawing  down  the  ladder  again. 

"  It  is  Richard !  "  I  heard  her  cry.     "  He  has  come  at  last." 

I  gripped  the  rope  tightly,  sprang  to  the  deck,  and  faced 
her  as  she  came  out  of  the  group,  her  lips  parted,  and  the  red 
of  her  cheeks  vying  with  the  hood  she  wore.  I  took  her  hand 
silently. 

"  I  had  given  you  over,  Richard,"  she  said,  her  eyes  looking 
reproachfully  into  mine.  "Another  ten  minutes,  and  I  shouldx 
not  have  seen  you." 

Indeed,  the  topsails  were  already  off  the  caps,  the  captain 
on  deck,  and  the  men  gathered  at  the  capstan. 

''  Have  you  not  enough  to  wish  you  good-by,  Dolly  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  There  must  be  a  score  of  them,"  said  my  lady,  making  a 
face.     "  But  I  wish  to  talk  to  you." 

Mr.  Marmaduke,  however,  had  no  notion  of  allowing  a  gath- 
ering in  his  daughter's  honour  to  be  broken  up.  It  had  been 
wickedly  said  of  him,  when  the  news  of  his  coming  departure 
got  around,  that  he  feared  Dorothy  would  fall  in  love  with 
some  provincial  beau  before  he  could  get  her  within  reach  of 
a  title.  When  he  observed  me  talking  to  her,  he  hurried  away 
from  the  friends  come  to  see  his  wife  (he  had  none  himself), 
and  seizing  me  by  the  arm  implored  me  to  take  good  care  of 
my  dear  grandfather,  and  to  write  them  occasionally  of  the 
state  of  his  health,  and  likewise  how  I  fared. 

"I  think  Dorothy  Avill  miss  you  more  than  any  of  them, 
Richard,"  said  he.     "  Will  you  not,  my  dear  ?  " 

But  she  was  gone.  I,  too,  left  him  without  ceremony,  to 
speak  to  Mrs.  Manners,  who  was  standing  apart,  looking  shore- 
ward. She  started  when  I  spoke,  and  I  saw  that  tears  were 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Are  you  coming  back  soon,  Mrs.  Manners  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Oh,  Richard!  I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  with  a  little 
choke  in  her  voice.  "  I  hope  it  will  be  no  longer  than  a 
year,  for  we  are  leaving  all  we  hold  dear  for  a  very  doubtful 
pleasure." 


A  FESTIVAL   AND  A  PARTING  115 

She  bade  me  write  to  them,  as  Mr.  Marmaduke  had,  only 
she  was  sincere.  Then  the  mate  came,  with  his  hand  to  his 
cap,  respectfully  to  inform  visitors  that  the  anchor  was  up  and 
down.  Albeit  my  spirits  were  low,  'twas  no  small  entertainment 
to  watch  the  doctor  and  his  rivals  at  their  adieus.  Courtenay 
had  at  his  command  an  hundred  subterfuges  to  outwit  his  fel- 
lows, and  so  manoeuvred  that  he  was  the  last  of  them  over  the 
side.  As  for  me,  luckily,  I  was  not  worth  a  thought.  But 
as  the  doctor  leaned  over  her  hand,  I  vowed  in  my  heart  that 
if  Dorothy  was  to  be  gained  only  in  such  a  way  I  would  not 
stoop  to  it.  And  in  my  heart  I  doubted  it.  I  heard  Dr. 
Courtenay  hint,  looking  meaningly  at  her  cloak,  that  some  of 
his  flowers  would  not  have  appeared  amiss  there. 

"Why,  doctor,"  says  my  lady  aloud,  with  a  side  glance  at 
me,  "  the  wisdom  of  Solomon  might  not  choose  out  of  twenty 
baskets." 

And  this  was  all  the  thanks  he  got  for  near  a  boat-load  of 
roses !  When  at  length  the  impatient  mate  had  hurried  him 
off,  Dolly  turned  to  me.     It  was  not  in  me  to  say  more  than :  — 

"  Good-by,  Dorothy.  And  do  not  forget  your  old  playmate. 
He  will  never  forget  you." 

We  stood  within  the  gangway.  With  a  quick  movement 
she  threw  open  her  cloak,  and  pinned  to  her  gown  I  saw  a 
faded  bunch  of  lilies  of  the  valley. 

I  had  but  the  time  to  press  her  hand.  The  boatswain's  pipe 
whistled,  and  the  big  ship  was  already  sliding  in  the  water  as  I 
leaped  into  my  pungy,  which  Hugo  was  holding  to  the  ladder. 
We  pulled  off  to  where  the  others  waited. 

But  the  Annapolis  sailed  away  down  the  bay,  and  never 
mother  glimpse  we  caught  of  my  lady. 


CHAPTER  XII 

NEWS    FROM    A   FAR    COUNTRY 

If  perchance,  my  dears,  tliere  creeps  into  this  chronicle  too 
much  of  an  old  man's  heart,  I  know  he  will  be  forgiven. 
What  life  ever  worth  living  has  been  without  its  tender  attach- 
ment ?  Because,  forsooth,  my  hair  is  white  now,  does  Bess 
flatter  herself  I  do  not  know  her  secret  ?  Or  does  Comyn 
believe  that  these  old  eyes  can  see  no  farther  than  the  specta- 
cles before  them  ?  Were  it  not  for  the  lovers,  ray  son,  satins 
and  broadcloths  had  never  been  invented.  And  were  it  not 
for  the  lovers,  what  joys  and  sorrows  would  we  lack  in  our 
lives ! 

That  was  a  long  summer  indeed.  And  tho'  Wilmot  House 
was  closed,  I  often  rode  over  of  a  morning  when  the  dew 
was  on  the  grass.  It  cheered  me  to  smoke  a  pipe  with  old 
McAndrews,  Mr.  Manners's  factor,  who  loved  to  talk  of  Miss 
Dorothy  near  as  much  as  I.  He  had  served  her  grandfather, 
and  people  said  that  had  it  not  been  for  McAndrews,  the  Man- 
ners fortune  had  long  since  been  scattered,  since  Mr.  Marmaduke 
knew  nothing  of  anything  that  he  should.  I  could  not  hear 
from  my  lady  until  near  the  first  of  October,  and  so  I  was 
fain  to  be  content  with  memories  —  memories  and  hard  work. 
For  I  had  complete  charge  of  the  plantation  now. 

My  Uncle  Grafton  came  twice  or  thrice,  but  without  his 
family.  Aunt  Caroline  and  Philip  having  declared  their  inde- 
pendence. My  uncle's  manner  to  me  was  now  of  studied  kind- 
ness, and  he  was  at  greater  pains  than  before  to  give  me  no 
excuse  for  offence.  I  had  little  to  say  to  him.  He  spent  his 
visits  reading  to  Mr.  Carvel,  who  sat  in  his  chair  all  the  day 
long.     Mr.  Allen  came  likewise,  to  perform  the  same  office. 

116 


NEWS   FROM  A   FAR   COUNTRY  117 

My  contempt  for  the  rector  was  grown  more  than  ever.  On 
my  grandfather's  account,  however,  I  refrained  from  quarrel- 
ling with  him.  And,  when  we  were  alone,  my  plain  speaking 
did  not  seera  to  anger  him,  or  affect  him  in  any  way.  Others 
came,  too.  Such  was  the  affection  Mr.  Carvel's  friends  bore 
him  that  they  did  not  desert  him  when  he  was  no  longer  the 
companion  he  had  been  in  former  years.  We  had  more  com- 
pany than  the  summer  before. 

In  the  autumn  a  strange  thing  happened.  When  we  had 
taken  my  grandfather  to  the  Hall  in  June,  his  dotage  seemed 
to  settle  upon  him.  He  became  a  trembling  old  man,  at  times 
so  peevish  that  we  were  obliged  to  summon  with  an  effort  what 
he  had  been.  He  was  suspicious  and  fault-finding  with  Scipio 
and  the  other  servants,  though  they  were  never  so  busy  for  his 
wants.  Mrs.  Willis's  dainties  were  often  untouched,  and  he 
would  frequently  sit  for  hours  between  slumber  and  waking, 
or  mumble  to  himself  as  I  read  the  prints.  But  about  the  time 
of  the  equinoctial  a  great  gale  came  out  of  the  south  so  strongly 
that  the  water  rose  in  the  river  over  the  boat  landing;  and  the 
roof  was  torn  from  one  of  the  curing-sheds.  The  next  morning 
dawned  clear,  and  brittle,  and  blue.  To  my  great  surprise,  Mr. 
Carvel  sent  for  me  to  walk  with  him  about  the  place,  that  he 
might  see  the  damage  with  his  own  eyes.  A  huge  walnut  had 
fallen  across  the  drive,  and  when  he  came  upon  it  he  stopped 
abruptly. 

"  Old  friend  !  "  he  cried,  "  have  you  succumbed  ?  After  all 
these  years  have  you  dropped  from  the  weight  of  a  blow  ?  " 
He  passed  his  hand  caressingly  along  the  trunk,  and  scarce 
ever  had  I  seen  him  so  affected.  In  truth,  for  the  instant  I 
thought  him  deranged.  He  raised  his  cane  above  his  shoulder 
and  struck  the  bark  so  heavily  that  the  silver  head  sunk  deep 
into  the  wood.  "  Look  you,  Richard,"  he  said,  the  water  com- 
ing into  his  eyes,  "look  you,  the  heart  of  it  is  gone,  lad;  and 
when  the  heart  is  rotten  'tis  time  for  us  to  go.  That  walnut 
was  a  life  friend,  my  son.  We  have  grown  together,"  he  con- 
tinued, turning  from  me  to  the  giant  and  brushing  his  cheeks, 
''  but  by  God's  good  will  we  shall  not  die  so,  for  my  heart  is 
still  as  young  as  the  days  when  you  were  sprouting." 


118  EICHAED   CARVEL 

And  he  walked  back  to  the  house  more  briskly  than  he  had 
come,  refusing,  for  the  first  time,  my  arm.  And  from  that 
day,  I  say,  he  began  to  mend.  The  lacing  of  red  came  again 
to  his  cheeks,  and  before  we  went  back  to  town  he  had 
walked  with  me  to  Master  Dingley's  tavern  on  the  highroad, 
and  back. 

We  moved  into  Marlboro'  Street  the  first  part  of  Novem- 
ber. I  had  seen  my  lady  off  for  England,  wearing  my  faded  flow- 
ers, the  panniers  of  the  fine  gentleman  in  a  neglected  pile  at  her 
cabin  door.  But  not  once  had  she  deigned  to  write  me.  It 
was  McAndrews  who  told  me  of  her  safe  arrival.  In  Annapo- 
lis rumours  were  a-flying  of  conquests  she  had  already  made. 
I  found  Betty  Tayloe  had  had  a  letter,  filled  with  the  fashion 
in  caps  and  gowns,  and  the  mention  of  more  than  one  noble 
name.  All  of  this  being,  for  unknown  reasons,  sacred,  I  was 
read  only  part  of  the  postscript,  in  which  I  figured:  "The 
London  Season  was  done  almost  before  we  arrived,"  so  it  ran. 
"  We  had  but  the  Opportunity  to  pay  our  Humble  Respects  to 
their  Majesties,  and  appear  at  a  few  Drum-Majors  and  Garden 
Fetes.  Now  we  are  off  to  Brighthelmstone,  and  thence,  so  Papa 
says,  to  Spa  and  the  Continent  until  the  end  of  January.  I 
am  pining  for  news  of  Maryland,  dearest  Betty.  Address  me 
in  care  of  Mr.  Ripley,  Barrister,  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  bid 
Richard  Carvel  write  me." 

"Which  does  not  look  as  if  she  were  coming  back  within 
the  year,"  said  Betty,  as  she  poured  me  a  dish  of  tea. 

Alas,  no !  But  I  did  not  write,  I  tried  and  failed.  And 
then  I  tried  to  forget.  I  was  constant  at  all  the  gayeties,  gave 
every  miss  in  town  a  share  of  my  attention,  rode  to  hounds 
once  a  week  at  Whitehall  or  the  South  River  Club  with  a 
dozen  young  beauties.  But  cantering  through  the  winter  mists 
'twas  Dolly,  in  her  red  riding-cloak  and  white  beaver,  I  saw 
beside  me.  None  of  them  had  her  seat  in  the  saddle,  and  none 
of  them  her  light  hand  on  the  reins.  And  tho'  they  lacked 
not  fire  and  skill,  they  had  not  my  lady's  dash  and  daring  to 
follow  over  field  and  fallow,  stream  and  searing,  and  be  in  at 
the  death  with  heightened  colour,  but  never  a  lock  awry. 

Then  came  the  first  assembly  of  the  year.     I  got  back  from 


NEWS  FROM  A  FAR   COUNTRY  119 

Bentley  Manor,  where  I  had  been  a-visiting  the  Fotheringays, 
just  in  time  to  call  for  Patty  in  Gloucester  Street. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  from  abroad,  Richard  ? "  she 
asked,  as  I  handed  her  into  my  chariot. 

"  Never  a  line,"  I  replied. 

"  Pho  !  "  exclaimed  Patty ;  "  you  tell  me  that !  Where  have 
you  been  hiding  ?     Then  you  shall  not  have  it  from  me." 

I  had  little  trouble,  however,  in  persuading  her.  For  news 
was  a  rare  luxury  in  those  days,  and  Patty  was  plainly  uncom- 
fortable until  she  should  have  it  out. 

'*  I  would  not  give  you  the  vapours  to-night  for  all  the  world, 
Richard,"  she  exclaimed.  "  But  if  you  must,  —  Dr.  Courtenay 
has  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Manners,  who  says  that  Dolly  is  to 
marry  his  Grace  cf  Chartersea.     There  now ! " 

"  And  I  am  not  greatly  disturbed,"  I  answered,  with  a  fine, 
careless  air. 

The  lanthorn  on  the  chariot  was  burning  bright.  And  I 
saw  Patty  look  at  me,  and  laugh. 

"  Indeed !  "  says  she  ;  "  what  a  sex  is  that  to  which  you  be- 
long. How  ready  are  men  to  deny  us  at  the  first  whisper! 
And  I  thought  you  the  most  constant  of  all.  For  my  part,  I 
credit  not  a  word  of  it.  'Tis  one  of  Mr.  Marmaduke's  lies  and 
vanities." 

"And  for  my  part,  I  think  it  true  as  gospel,"  I  cried. 
"  Dolly  always  held  a  coronet  above  her  colony,  and  all  her 
life  has  dreamed  of  a  duke." 

"Nay,"  answered  Patty,  more  soberly;  "nay,  you  do  her 
wrong.  You  will  discover  one  day  that  she  is  loyal  to  the 
£ore,  tho'  she  has  a  fop  of  a  father  who  would  serve  his  Grace's 
.lihocolate.  We  are  all  apt  to  talk,  my  dear,  and  to  say  what 
we  do  not  mean,  as  you  are  doing." 

"  Were  I  to  die  to-morrow,  I  would  repeat  it,"  I  exclaimed. 
But  I  liked  Patty  the  better  for  what  she  had  said. 

"  And  there  is  more  news,  of  less  import,"  she  continued,  as 
I  was  silent.  "  The  Tliunderer  dropped  anchor  in  the  roads 
to-day,  and  her  officers  will  be  at  the  assembly.  And  Betty 
tells  me  there  is  a  young  lord  among  them,  —  la !  I  have 
clean  forgot  the  string  of  adjectives  she  used,  —  but  she  would 


120  RICHARD  CARVEL 

have  had  me  know  he  was  as  handsome  as  Apollo,  and  so  dash- 
ing and  diverting  as  to  put  Courtenay  and  all  our  wits  to 
shame.     She  dined  with  him  at  the  Governor's." 

I  barely  heard  her,  tho'  I  had  seen  the  man-o'-war  in  the 
harbour  as  I  sailed  in  that  afternoon. 

The  assembly  hall  was  filled  when  we  arrived,  aglow  with 
candles  and  a-tremble  with  music,  the  powder  already  flying, 
and  the  tables  in  the  recesses  at  either  end  surrounded  by 
those  at  the  cards.  A  lively  scene,  those  dances  at  the  old 
Stadt  House,  but  one  I  love  best  to  recall  with  a  presence  that 
endeared  it  to  me.  The  ladies  in  flowered  aprons  and  caps 
and  brocades  and  trains,  and  the  gentlemen  in  brilliant  coats, 
trimmed  with  lace  and  stiffened  with  buckram.  That  night, 
as  Patty  had  predicted,  there  was  a  smart  sprinkling  of  uni- 
forms from  the  Thunderer.  One  of  those  officers  held  my  eye. 
He  was  as  well-formed  a  lad,  or  man  (for  he  was  both),  as  it 
had  ever  been  my  lot  to  see.  He  was  neither  tall  nor  short, 
but  of  a  good  breadth.  His  fair  skin  was  tanned  by  the 
A^eather,  and  he  wore  his  own  wavy  hair  powdered,  as  was 
]ust  become  the  fashion,  and  tied  with  a  ribbon  behind. 

"  Mercy,  Richard,  that  must  be  his  Lordship,  Why,  his 
good  looks  are  all  Betty  claimed  for  them !  "  exclaimed  Patty, 
Mr.  Lloyd,  who  was  standing  by,  overheard  her,  and  was 
vastly  amused  at  her  downright  way. 

''I  will  fetch  him  directly.  Miss  Swain,"  said  he,  "as  I  have 
done  for  a  dozen  ladies  before  you."     And  fetch  him  he  did. 

"Miss  Swain,  this  is  my  Lord  Comyn,"  said  he.  "Your 
Lordship,  one  of  the  boasts  of  our  province." 

Patty  grew  red  as  the  scarlet  with  which  his  Lordship's 
coat  was  lined.  She  curtseyed,  while  he  made  a  profound 
bow. 

"What!  Another  boast,  Mr.  Lloyd!"  he  cried.  "Miss 
Swain  is  the  tenth  I  have  met.  But  I  vow  they  excel  as  they 
proceed." 

"Then  you  must  meet  no  more,  my  Lord,"  said  Patty, 
laughing  at  Mr.  Lloyd's  predicament. 

" Egad,  then,  I  will  not,"  declared  Comyn.  "I  protest  I  am 
■atisfied," 


NEWS  FROM  A  FAE   COUNTRY  12i 

Then  I  was  presented.  He  had  won  me  on  the  instant  with 
his  open  smile  and  frank,  boyish  manner. 

"And  this  is  young  Mr.  Carvel,  whom  I  hear  vans  every 
hunt  in  the  colony  ?  "  said  he. 

"I  fear  you  have  been  misinformed,  my  Lord,"  I  replied, 
flushing  with  pleasure  nevertheless. 

"  Nay,  my  Lord,"  Mr.  Lloyd  struck  in ;  "  Richard  could  ride 
down  the  devil  himself,  and  he  were  a  fox.  You  will  see  for 
yourself  to-morrow." 

"  I  pray  we  may  not  start  the  devil,"  said  his  Lordship;  "or 
I  shall  be  content  to  let  Mr.  Carvel  run  him  down." 

This  Comyn  was  a  man  after  my  own  fancy,  as,  indeed,  he 
took  the  fancy  of  every  one  at  the  ball.  Though  a  viscount  in 
his  own  right,  he  gave  himself  not  half  the  airs  over  us  provin- 
cials  as  did  many  of  his  messmates.  Even  Mr.  Jacques,  who 
was  sour  as  last  year's  cider  over  the  doings  of  Parliamentj 
lost  his  heart,  and  asked  why  we  v/ere  not  favoured  in  America 
with  more  of  his  sort. 

By  a  great  mischance  Lord  Comyn  had  fallen  into  the  tendei 
clutches  of  my  Aunt  Caroline.  It  seemed  she  had  known  his 
uncle,  the  Honourable  Arthur  Comyn,  in  New  York ;  and  now 
she  undertook  to  be  responsible  for  his  Lordship's  pleasure  at 
Annapolis,  that  he  might  meet  only  those  of  the  first  fashion 
Seeing  him  talking  to  Patty,  my  aunt  rose  abruptly  from  her 
loo  and  made  toward  us,  all  paint  and  powder  and  patches^ 
her  chin  in  the  air,  which  barely  enabled  her  to  look  over  Miss 
Swain's  head. 

"  My  Lord,"  she  cries,  "  I  will  show  you  our  colonial  reel, 
which  is  about  to  begin,  and  I  warrant  you  is  gayer  than  any 
dance  you  have  at  home." 

"  Your  very  devoted,  Mrs.  Carvel,"  says  his  Lordship,  with  a 
bow,  "  but  Miss  Swain  has  done  me  the  honour." 

"•  0  Lud !  "  cries  my  aunt,  sweeping  the  room,  "  I  vow  I 
cannot  keep  pace  with  the  misses  nowadays.     Is  she  here  ?  " 

"  She  was  but  a  moment  since,  ma'am,"  replied  Comyn, 
instantly,  with  a  mischievous  look  at  me,  while  poor  Patt^ 
stood  blushing  not  a  yard  distant. 

There  were  many  who  overheard,  and  who  used  theii  fans 


122  EICHARD  CAKVEL 

and  their  napkins  to  hide  their  laughter  at  the  very  just  snub 
Mrs.  Grafton  had  received.  And  I  wondered  at  the  readiness 
with  which  he  had  read  her  character,  liking  him  all  the 
better.  But  my  aunt  was  not  to  be  disabled  by  this,  —  not  she. 
After  the  dance  she  got  hold  of  him,  keeping  him  until  certain 
designing  ladies  with  daughters  took  him  away ;  their  names 
charity  forbids  me  to  mention.  But  in  spite  of  them  all  he 
contrived  to  get  Patty  for  supper,  when  I  took  Betty  Tayloe, 
and  we  were  very  merry  at  table  together.  His  Lordship 
proved  more  than  able  to  take  care  of  himself,  and  con- 
trived to  send  Philip  about  his  business  when  he  pulled  up  a 
chair  beside  us.  He  drank  a  health  to  Miss  Swain,  and  an- 
other to  Miss  Tayloe,  and  was  on  the  point  of  filling  a  third 
glass  to  the  ladies  of  Maryland,  when  he  caught  himself  and 
brought  his  hand  down  on  the  table. 

"  Gad's  life !  "  cried  he,  "  but  I  think  she's  from  Maryland 
too ! " 

"  Who  ?  "  demanded  the  young  ladies,  in  a  breath. 

But  I  knew. 

"  Who !  "  exclaimed  Comyn.  "  Who  but  Miss  Dorothy  Man- 
ners !  Isn't  she  from  Maryland  ?  "  And  marking  our  aston- 
ished nods,  he  continued :  "  Why,  she  descended  upon  Mayfair 
when  they  were  so  weary  for  something  to  worship,  and  they 
went  mad  over  her  in  a  s'ennight.     I  give  you  Miss  Manners !" 

"  And  you  know  her  ! "  exclaimed  Patty,  her  voice  quivering 
with  excitement. 

"  Faith ! "  said  his  Lordship,  laughing,  "  For  a  whole  month 
I  was  her  most  devoted,  as  were  we  all  at  Almack's.  I  stayed 
until  the  last  minute  for  a  word  with  her,  —  which  I  never  got, 
by  the  way,  —  and  paid  near  a  guinea  a  mile  for  a  chaise  to 
Portsmouth  as  a  consequence.  Already  she  has  had  her  choice 
from  a  thousand  a  year  up,  and  I  tell  you  our  English  ladies 
are  green  with  envy." 

I  was  stunned,  you  may  be  sure.  And  yet,  I  might  have 
expected  it. 

"  If  your  Lordship  has  left  your  heart  in  England,"  said 
Betty,  with  a  smile,  "  I  give  you  warning  you  must  not  teU 
our  ladies  here  of  it." 


NEWS   FROM  A   FAR   COUNTRY  123 

"I  care  not  who  knows  it,  Miss  Taj-loe,"  he  cried.  That 
fustian,  insincerity,  was  certainly  not  one  of  his  faults.  "/ 
care  not  who  knows  it.  To  pass  her  chariot  is  to  have  your 
heart  stolen,  and  you  must  needs  run  after  and  beg  mercy. 
But,  ladies,"  he  added,  his  eye  twinkling ;  "  having  seen  the 
women  of  your  colony,  I  marvel  no  longer  at  Miss  Manners's 
beauty." 

He  set  us  all  a-laughing. 

"1  fear  you  were  not  born  a  diplomat,  sir,"  says  Patty. 
"  You  agree  that  we  are  beautiful,  yet  to  hear  that  one  of  us  is 
more  so  is  small  consolation." 

"  We  men  turn  as  naturally  to  Miss  Manners  as  plants  to 
the  sun,  ma'am,"  he  replied  impulsively.  "  Yet  none  of  us 
dare  hope  for  alliance  with  so  brilliant  and  distant  an  object. 
I  make  small  doubt  those  are  Mr.  Carvel's  sentiments,  and  still 
he  seems  popular  enough  with  the  ladies.  How  now,  sir  ? 
How  now,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  You  have  yet  to  speak  on  so  tender 
a  subject." 

My  eyes  met  Patty's. 

"  I  will  be  no  more  politic  than  you,  my  Lord,"  I  said  boldly, 
"nor  will  I  make  a  secret  of  it  that  I  adore  JVfiss  Manners  full 
as  much." 

"  Bravo,  Richard  !  "  cries  Patty  ;  and  "  Good  !  "  cries  his 
Lordship,  while  Betty  claps  her  hands.  And  then  Comyn 
swung  suddenly  round  in  his  chair. 

"  Richard  Carvel !  "  says  he.  "  By  the  seven  chimes  I  have 
heard  her  mention  your  name.     The  devil  fetch  my  memory ! " 

"  My  name ! "  I  exclaimed,  in  surprise,  and  prodigiously 
rpset. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  with  his  hand  to  his  head ;  "  some 
such  thought  was  in  my  mind  this  afternoon  when  I  heard 
of  your  riding.  Stay !  I  have  it !  I  was  at  Ampthill, 
Ossory's  place,  just  before  I  left.  Some  insupportable  cox- 
comb was  boasting  a  marvellous  run  with  the  hounds  nigh 
across  Hertfordshire,  and  Miss  Manners  brought  him  up  with 
a  round  turn  and  a  half  hitch  by  relating  one  of  your  exploits, 
Richard  Carvel.  And  take  my  word  on't  she  got  no  small 
applause.     She  told  how  you  had  followed  a  fox  over  oae  oi 


124  EICHARD  CAEVEL 

your  rough  provincial  counties,  which  means  three  of  Hertford- 
shire, with  your  arm  broken,  by  Heaven !  and  how  they  Ufted 
you  off  at  the  death.  And,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  my  Lord,  gener- 
ously, looking  at  my  flushed  face,  "you  must  give  me  your 
hand  for  that." 

So  Dorothy  in  England  had  thought  of  me  at  least.  But 
what  booted  it  if  she  were  to  marry  a  duke  !  My  thoughts 
began  to  whirl  over  all  Coniyn  had  said  of  her  so  that  I  scarce 
heard  a  question  Miss  Tayloe  had  put. 

"  Marry  Chartersea  !  That  profligate  pig  ! "  Comyn  was 
saying.  "  She  would  as  soon  marry  a  chairman  or  a  chimney- 
sweep, I'm  thinking.  Why,  Miss  Tayloe,  Sir  Charles  Grandi- 
son  himself  would  scarce  suit  her  !  " 

*'  Good  lack !  "  said  Betty,  "  I  think  Sir  Charles  would  be 
the  very  last  for  Dorothy." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MR.    ALLEN   SHOWS    HIS    HAND 

So  Dorothy's  beauty  had  taken  London  by  storm,  even  as  it 
had  conquered  Annapolis  !  However,  'twas  small  consolation 
to  me  to  hear  his  Grace  of  Chartersea  called  a  pig  and  a  profli- 
gate while  better  men  danced  her  attendance  in  Mayfair. 
Nor,  in  spite  of  what  his  Lordship  had  said,  was  I  quite  easy 
on  the  score  of  the  duke.  It  was  in  truth  no  small  honour  to 
become  a  duchess.  If  Mr.  Marmaduke  had  aught  to  say,  there 
was  an  end  to  hope.  She  would  have  her  coronet.  But  in 
that  hour  of  darkness  I  counted  upon  my  lady's  spirit. 

Dr.  Courtenay  came  to  the  assembly  very  late,  with  a  new 
fashion  of  pinchbeck  buckles  on  his  pumps  and  a  new  manner 
of  taking  snuff.  (I  caught  Fotheringay  practising  this  by  the 
stairs  shortly  after.)  Always  an  important  man,  the  doctor's 
prominence  had  been  increased  that  day  by  the  letter  he  had 
received.  He  was  too  thorough  a  courtier  to  profess  any  grief 
over  Miss  Manners's  match,  and  went  about  avowing  that  he 
had  always  predicted  a  duke  for  IMiss  Dorothy.  And  he  d'-ew 
a  deal  of  pleasure  from  the  curiosity  of  those  who  begged 
but  one  look  at  the  letter.  Show  it,  indeed!  For  no  con- 
sideration. A  private  communication  from  one  gentleman  to 
another  must  be  respected.  Will  Fotheringay  swore  the 
doctor  was  a  sly  dog,  and  had  his  own  reasons  for  keeping  it 
to  himself. 

The  doctor  paid  his  compliment  to  the  captain  of  the 
Thunderer,  and  to  his  Lordship;  hoped  that  he  would  see  them 
at  the  meet  on  the  morrow,  tho'  his  gout  forbade  his  riding  to 
hounds.  He  saluted  me  in  the  most  friendly  way,  for  I 
played  billiards  with  him  at  the  Coffee  House  now,  and  he 

125 


126  RICHARD   CARVEL 

won  my  money.  He  had  pronounced  my  phaeton  to  be  as 
well  appointed  as  any  equipage  in  town,  and  had  done  me 
the  honour  to  drive  out  with  me  on  several  occasions.  It  was 
Betty  that  brought  him  humiliation  that  evening. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  soar  our  Pandora  hath  taken, 
Miss  Betty?"  says  he.  "From  a  Maryland  manor  to  a  ducal 
palace.     'Tis  a  fable,  egad!     No  less!  " 

"Indeed,  I  think  it  is,"  retorted  Betty.  "Marl:  me,  doctor, 
Dorothy  will  not  put  up  an  instant  with  a  ro^d  and  a  brute." 

"A  rou&l"  cries  he,  "and  a  brute!  What  the  plague,  Miss 
Tayloe!     I  vow  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"Then  ask  my  Lord  Comyn,  who  knows  your  Duke  of 
Chartersea,"  said  Betty. 

Dr.  Courtenay's  expression  was  worth  a  pistole. 

"  Comyn  knows  him !  "  he  repeated. 

"That  he  does,"  replied  Betty,  laughing.  "His  Lordship 
says  Chartersea  is  a  pig  and  a  profligate,  and  I  remember  not 
what  else.  And  that  Dolly  will  not  look  at  him.  And  so 
little  Mr.  Marmaduke  may  go  a-hunting  for  another  title." 

No  wonder  I  had  little  desire  for  dancing  that  night!  I 
wandered  out  of  the  assembly-room  and  through  the  silent 
corridors  of  the  Stadt  House,  turning  over  and  over  again  what 
I  had  heard,  and  picturing  Dorothy  reigning  over  the  macaronies 
of  St.  James's  Street.  She  had  said  nothing  of  this  in  her 
letter  to  Betty,  and  had  asked  me  to  write  to  her.  But  now, 
with  a  duke  to  refuse  or  accept,  could  she  care  to  hear  from  her 
old  playmate?  I  took  no  thought  of  the  time,  until  suddenly 
my  conscience  told  me  I  had  neglected  Fatty. 

As  I  entered  th''  hall  I  saw  her  at  the  far  end  of  it  talking 
to  Mr.  Allen.  This  I  thought  strange,  for  I  knew  she  disliked 
him.  Lord  Comyn  and  Mr.  Carroll,  the  barrister,  and  Singleton, 
were  standing  by,  listening.  By  the  time  I  was  halfway  across 
to  tlieni  the  rector  turned  away.  I  remember  thinking  after- 
wards that  he  changed  colour  when  he  said :  "  Your  servant, 
Mr.  Richard."  But  I  thought  nothing  of  it  at  the  time,  and 
went  on  to  Patty. 

"I  have  come  for  a  country  dance,  before  we  go,  Patty,"  I 
said. 


MR.   ALLEN   SHOWS   HIS  HAND  127 

Then  something  in  her  mien  struck  me.  Her  eyes  expressed 
a  pain  I  had  remarked  in  them  before  only  when  she  spoke  to 
me  of  Tom,  and  her  lips  were  closed  tightly.  She  flushed,  and 
paled,  and  looked  from  Singleton  to  Mr.  Carroll.  They  and 
his  Lordship  remained  silent. 

"I  —  I  cannot,  Richard.  I  am  going  home,"  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  I  will  see  if  the  chariot  is  here,"  I  answered,  surprised,  but 
thinking  of  Tom. 

She  stopped  me. 

"I  am  going  with  Mr.  Carroll,"  she  said. 

I  hope  a  Carvel  never  has  to  be  rebuffed  twice,  nor  to  be 
humbled  by  craving  an  explanation  before  a  company.  I  was 
confounded  that  Patty  should  treat  me  thus,  when  I  had  done 
nothing  to  deserve  it.  As  I  made  for  the  door,  burning  and 
indignant,  I  felt  as  tho'  every  eye  in  the  room  was  upon  me. 
Young  Harvey  drove  me  that  night. 

"  Marlboro'  Street,  Mr.  Richard  ?  "  said  he. 

"Coffee  House,"  replied  I,  that  place  coming  first  into  my 
nead. 

Young  Harvey  seldom  took  liberties ;  but  he  looked  down 
from  the  box. 

"Better  home,  sir;  your  pardon,  sir." 

"  D — n  it !  "  I  cried,  "  drive  where  I  bid  you  !  " 

I  pulled  down  the  fore-glass,  though  the  night  was  cold,  and 
began  to  cast  about  for  the  cause  of  Patty's  action.  And  then 
it  was  the  rector  came  to  my  mind.  Yes,  he  had  been  with 
her  just  before  I  came  up,  and  I  made  sure  on  the  instant  that 
my  worthy  instructor  was  responsible  for  the  trouble.  I  re- 
membered that  I  had  quarrelled  with  him  the  morning  before 
I  had  gone  to  Bentley  Manor,  and  threatened  to  confess  his 
villany  and  my  deceit  to  Mr.  Carvel.  He  had  answered  me 
with  a  sneer  and  a  dare.  I  knew  that  Patty  put  honour  and 
honesty  before  all  else  in  the  world,  and  that  she  would  not 
have  suffered  my  friendship  for  a  day  had  she  believed  me  to 
lack  either.  But  she,  who  knew  me  so  well,  was  not  likely  to 
believe  anything  he  might  say  without  giving  me  the  chance 
to  clear  myself.     And  what  could  he  have  told  her  ? 


128  RICHARD   CARVEL 

I  felt  my  anger  growing  big  within  me,  until  I  grew  afraid 
of  what  I  would  do  if  I  were  tempted.  I  had  a  long  score  and 
a  heavy  score  against  this  rector  of  St.  Anne's,  —  a  score  that 
had  been  gathering  these  years.  And  I  felt  that  my  uncle  was 
somewhere  behind  him ;  that  the  two  of  them  were  plotters 
against  me,  even  as  Harvey  had  declared ;  albeit  ray  Uncle 
Grafton  was  little  seen  in  his  company  now.  And  finally,  in 
a  sinister  flash  of  revelation,  came  the  thought  that  Grafton 
himself  was  at  the  back  of  this  deception  of  my  grandfather, 
as  to  my  principles.  Fool  that  I  was,  it  had  never  occurred  to 
me  before.  But  how  was  he  to  gain  by  it  ?  Did  he  hope  that 
Mr.  Carvel,  in  a  fit  of  anger,  would  disinherit  me  when  he  found 
I  had  deceived  him  ?  Yes.  And  so  had  left  the  matter  in 
abeyance  near  these  two  years,  that  the  shock  might  be  the 
greater  when  it  came.  I  recalled  now,  with  a  shudder,  that 
never  since  the  spring  of  my  grandfather's  illness  had  my 
uncle  questioned  me  upon  my  politics.  I  was  seized  with  a  fit 
of  fury.  I  suspected  that  Mr.  Allen  would  be  at  the  Coffee 
House  after  the  assembly.  And  I  determined  to  seize  the 
chance  at  once  and  have  it  out  with  him  then  and  there. 

The  inn  was  ablaze,  but  as  yet  deserted ;  Mr.  Claude  expec- 
tant. He  bowed  me  from  my  chariot  door,  and  would  know 
what  took  me  from  the  ball.  I  threw  him  some  short  answer, 
bade  Harvey  go  home,  saying  that  I  would  have  some  fellow 
light  me  to  Marlboro'  Street  when  I  thought  proper.  And 
coming  into  the  long  room  I  flung  aside  my  greatcoat  and  com- 
manded a  flask  of  Mr.  Stephen  Bordley's  old  sherry,  some  of 
which  Mr.  Claude  had  obtained  at  that  bachelor's  demise. 

The  wine  was  scarce  opened  before  I  heard  some  sort  of  stir 
at  the  front,  and  two  servants  in  a  riding  livery  of  scarlet  and 
white  hurried  in  to  seek  Mr.  Claude.  The  sight  of  them  suf- 
ficed mine  host,  for  he  went  out  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  go, 
giving  the  bell  a  sharp  pull  as  he  passed  the  door ;  and  pres- 
ently I  heard  him  complimenting  two  gentlemen  into  the 
house.  The  voice  of  one  I  knew,  —  being  no  other  than  Cap- 
tain Clapsaddle's ;  and  him  I  had  not  seen  for  the  past  six 
months.  I  was  just  risen  to  my  feet  when  they  came  in  at 
the  door  beside  me. 


MR.   ALLEN   SHOWS   HIS   HAND  129 

"Richard!"  cried  the  captain,  and  grasped  my  hand  in 
both  his  own.  I  returned  his  pressure,  too  much  pleased  to 
speak.     Then  his  eye  was  caught  by  my  finery. 

"  So  ho  !  "  says  he,  sliaking  his  head  at  me  for  a  sad  rogue. 
"Wine  and  women  and  fine  clothes,  and  not  nineteen,  or  I 
mistake  me.  It  was  so  with  Captain  Jack,  who  blossomed  in 
a  week ;  and  few  could  vie  with  him,  I  warrant  you,  after  he 
made  his  decision.  But  bless  me  !  "  he  went  on,  drawing  back, 
"  the  lad  looks  mature,  and  a  fair  two  inches  broader  than  last 
spring.     But  why  are  you  not  at  the  assembly,  Richard  ?  " 

"I  have  but  now  come  from  there,  sir,"  I  replied,  not  caring 
in  the  presence  of  a  stranger  to  enter  into  reasons. 

At  my  answer  the  captain  turned  from  me  to  the  gentleman 
behind  him,  who  had  been  regarding  us  both  as  Ave  talked. 
There  are  some  few  men  in  the  world,  I  thank  God  for  it,  who 
bear  their  value  on  their  countenance ;  who  stand  unmistaka- 
bly for  qualities  which  command  respect  and  admiration  and 
love  !  We  seem  to  recognize  such  men,  and  to  wonder  where 
we  have  seen  them  before.  In  reality  we  recognize  the  virtues 
they  represent.  So  it  was  with  him  I  saw  in  front  of  me,  and 
by  his  air  and  carriage  I  marked  him  then  and  there  as  a  man 
born  to  great  things.  You  all  know  his  face,  my  dears,  and  I 
pray  God  it  may  live  in  the  sight  of  those  who  come  after  you, 
for  generation  upon  generation ! 

"  Colonel  Washington,"  said  the  captain,  "  this  is  Mr.  Rich- 
ard Carvel,  the  son  of  Captain  Carvel." 

Mr.  Washington  did  not  speak  at  once.  He  stood  regard- 
ing me  a  full  minute,  his  eye  seeming  to  penetrate  the  secrets 
of  my  life.  And  I  take  pride  in  saying  it  was  an  eye  I  could 
meet  without  flinching. 

"Your  father  w^as  a  brave  man,  sir,"  he  said  soberly,  "and 
it  seems  you  favour  him.     I  am  happy  in  knowing  the  son." 

For  a  moment  he  stood  debating  whether  he  would  go  to 
the  house  of  one  of  his  many  friends  in  Annapolis,  know- 
ing that  they  would  be  offended  when  they  learned  he  had 
stopped  at  the  inn.  He  often  came  to  town,  indeed,  but 
seldom  tarried  long ;  and  it  had  never  been  my  fortune  to  see 
him.     Being   arrived   unexpectedly,  and  obliged  to  be  away 

K 


130  KICHAED   CAKVEL 

early  on  the  morrow,  he  decided  to  order  rooms  of  Mr.  Claude, 
sat  down  with  me  at  the  table,  and  commenced  supper.  They 
had  ridden  from  Alexandria.  I  gathered  from  their  conversa- 
tion that  they  were  on  their  way  to  Philadelphia  upon  some 
private  business,  the  nature  of  which,  knowing  Captain  Daniel's 
sentiments  and  those  of  Colonel  Washington,  I  went  not  far  to 
guess.  The  country  was  in  a  stir  about  the  Townsheud  duties ; 
and  there  being  some  rumour  that  all  these  were  to  be  dis- 
charged save  only  that  on  tea,  anxiety  prevailed  in  our  middle 
colonies  that  the  merchants  of  New  York  would  abandon 
the  association  formed  and  begin  importation.  It  was  of 
some  mission  to  these  merchants  that  I  suspected  them. 

As  I  sat  beside  Colonel  Washington,  I  found  myself  growing 
calmer,  and  ashamed  of  my  lack  of  self-control.  Uncon- 
sciously, when  we  come  in  contact  with  the  great  of  character, 
we  mould  our  minds  to  their  qualities.  His  very  person 
seemed  to  exhale,  not  sanctity,  but  virility.  I  felt  that  this 
man  could  command  himself  and  others.  In  his  presence  self- 
command  came  to  me,  as  a  virtue  gone  out  of  him.  'Twas  not 
his  speech,  I  would  have  you  know,  that  took  hold  of  me.  He 
was  by  no  means  a  brilliant  talker,  and  I  had  the  good  fortune 
to  see  him  at  his  ease,  since  he  and  the  captain  were  old 
friends.  As  they  argued  upon  the  questions  of  the  day,  the 
colonel  did  not  seek  to  impress  by  words,  or  to  fascinate  by 
manner.  His  opinions  were  calm  and  moderate,  and  appeared 
to  me  so  just  as  to  admit  of  no  appeal.  He  scrupled  not  to 
use  a  forceful  word  when  occasion  demanded.  And  yet,  now 
and  then,  he  had  a  lively  way  about  him  with  all  his  dignity. 
When  he  had  finished  his  supper  he  bade  Mr.  Claude  bring 
another  bottle  of  Mr.  Bordley's  sherry,  having  tested  mine, 
and  addressed  himself  to  me. 

He  would  know  what  my  pursuits  had  been ;  for  ray  father's 
sake,  what  were  my  ambitions  ?  He  questioned  me  about  Mr. 
Carvel's  plantation,  of  which  he  had  heard,  and  appeared 
pleased  with  the  answers  I  gave  as  to  its  management  and 
methods.  Captain  Daniel  was  no  less  so.  Mr.  Washington 
nad  agriculture  at  his  finger  ends,  and  gave  me  some  advice 
which  he  had  found  serviceable  at  Mount  Vernon, 


MR.   ALLEN    SHOWS   HIS   HAND  131 

"  'Tis  a  pity,  Richard,"  said  he,  smiling  thoughtfully  at  the 
captain,  "  'tis  a  pity  we  have  no  service  afield  open  to  our 
young  men.  One  of  your  spirit  and  bearing  should  be  of  that 
profession.  Captain  Jack  Avas  as  brave  and  dashing  an  officer 
as  I  ever  laid  eyes  on." 

I  hesitated,  tho'  tingling  at  the  compliment. 

"  I  begin  to  think  I  was  born  for  the  sea,  sir,"  I  answered, 
at  length. 

"  What !  "  cried  the  captain ;  "  what  news  is  this,  Richard  ? 
'Slife  !  how  has  this  come  about  ?  " 

My  auger  subdued  by  Mr.  Washington's  presence,  a  curious 
mood  had  taken  its  place.  A  foolish  mood,  I  thought  it,  but 
one  of  feeling  things  to  come. 

"I  believe  I  shall  one  day  take  part  in  a  great  sea-fight,"  I 
said.  And,  tho'  ashamed  ta  speak  of  it,  I  told  him  of  Stanwix's 
prophecy  that  I  should  pace  the  decks  of  a  man-o'-war. 

"  A  pox  on  Stanwix ! "  said  the  captain,  *'  an  artful  old  sea- 
dog  !  I  never  yet  knew  one  who  did  not  think  the  sun  rises 
and  sets  from  poop  to  forecastle,  who  did  not  wheedle  with 
all  the  young  blood  to  get  them  to  follow  a  bow-legged  pro- 
fession." 

Colonel  Washington  laughed. 

"  Judge  not,  Clapsaddle,"  said  he ;  "  here  are  two  of  us  try- 
ing to  get  the  lad  for  our  own  bow-legged  profession.  We 
are  as  hot  as  Methodi.sts  to  convert." 

**  Small  conversion  he  needed  when  I  was  here  to  watch 
hiiJM  colonel.  And  he  rides  with  any  trooper  I  ever  laid  eyes 
on.  Why,  sir,  I  myself  threw  him  on  a  saddle  before  he  could 
»vell-nigh  walk,  and  'twere  a  waste  of  material  to  put  him  in 
the  navy." 

"But  what  this  old  man  said  of  a  flag  not  yet  seen  in 
heaven  or  earth  interests  me,"  said  Colonel  Washington. 
"Tell  me,"  he  added  with  a  penetration  we  both  remarked, 
"tell  me,  does  jonv  Captain  Stanwix  follow  the  times?  Is 
he  a  man  to  read  his  prints  and  pamphlets?  In  other 
words,  is  he  a  man  who  might  predict  out  of  his  own  heated 
imagination  ?  " 

"  Nay,  sir,"  I  answered,  "  he  nods  over  his  tobacco  the  day 


132  RICHAED   CARVEL 

long.     And  I  will  make  bold  to  swear,  he  has  never  heard  of 
the  Stamp  Act." 

"  'Tis  strange,"  said  the  colonel,  musing ;  "  I  have  heard  of 
this  second  sight  —  have  seen  it  among  my  own  negroes.  But 
I  heartily  pray  that  this  may  be  but  the  childish  fancy  of 
an  old  mariner.  How  do  you  interpret  it,  sir  ? "  he  added, 
addressing  himself  to  me. 

"  If  a  prophecy,  I  can  interpret  it  in  but  one  way,"  I  be- 
gan, and  there  I  stopped. 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Washington.  He  studied  me  awhile 
as  though  weighing  my  judgment,  and  went  on:  "Needless 
to  say,  Richard,  that  such  a  service,  if  it  comes,  will  not  be 
that  of  his  Majesty." 

"  And  it  were,  colonel,  I  would  not  embark  in  it  a  step," 
I  cried. 

He  laughed. 

"The  lad  has  his  father's  impulse,"  he  said  to  Captain 
Daniel.  "  But  I  thought  old  Mr.  Carvel  to  be  one  of  the 
warmest  loyalists  in  the  colonies." 

I  bit  my  lip ;  for,  since  that  unhappy  deception  of  Mr.  Car- 
vel, I  had  not  meant  to  be  drawn  into  an  avowal  of  my  sen- 
timents.    But  I  had,  alas,  inherited  a  hasty  tongue. 

"  Mr.  Washington,"  said  the  captain,  "  old  Mr.  Carvel  has 
ever  been  a  good  friend  to  me.  And,  though  I  could  not  but 
perceive  which  way  the  lad  was  tending,  I  had  held  it  but  a 
poor  return  for  friendship  had  I  sought  by  word  or  deed  to 
bring  him  to  my  way  of  thinking,  Nor  have  I  ever  suffered 
his  views  in  my  presence." 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  honour  you  for  it,"  put  in  the  colonel,  warmly. 

"  It  is  naught  to  my  credit,"  returned  the  captain.  "  I 
would  not,  for  the  sake  of  my  party  and  beliefs,  embitter 
what  remains  of  my  old  friend's  life." 

I  drew  a  long  breath  and  drained  the  full  glass  before  me. 

"  Captain  Daniel !  "  I  cried,  "  you  must  hear  me  now.  I 
have  been  waiting  your  coming  these  months.  And  if  Colonel 
Washington  gives  me  leave,  I  will  speak  before  him." 

The  colonel  bade  me  proceed,  avowing  that  Captain  Carvel's 
son  should  have  his  best  assistance. 


MR.   ALLEN   SHOWS  HIS   HAND  133 

With  that  I  told  them  the  whole  story  of  Mr.  Allen's  vil- 
lany.  How  I  had  been  sent  to  him  because  of  my  Whig  sen- 
timents, and  for  thrashing  a  Tory  schoolmaster  and  his  flock. 
This  made  the  gentlemen  laugh,  tho'  Captain  Daniel  had  heard 
it  before.  I  went  on  to  explain  how  Mr.  Carvel  had  fallen  ill, 
and  was  like  to  die ;  and  how  Mr.  Allen,  taking  advantage  of 
his  weakness  when  he  rose  from  his  bed,  had  gone  to  him  with 
the  lie  of  having  converted  me.  But  when  I  told  of  the  scene 
between  my  grandfather  and  me  at  Carvel  Hall,  of  the  tears  of 
joy  that  the  old  gentleman  shed,  and  of  how  he  had  given  me 
Firefly  as  a  reward,  the  captain  rose  from  his  chair  and  looked 
out  of  the  window  into  the  blackness,  and  swore  a  great  oath 
all  to  himself.  And  the  expression  I  saw  come  into  the  colo- 
nel's eyes  I  shall  never  forget. 

"  And  you  feared  the  consequences  upon  your  grandfather's 
health  ?  "  he  asked  gravely. 

"  So  help  me  God ! "  I  answered,  "  I  truly  believe  that  to 
have  undeceived  him  would  have  proved  fatal." 

"And  so,  for  the  sake  of  the  sum  he  receives  for  teaching 
you,"  cried  the  captain,  with  another  oath,  "  this  scoundrelly 
clergyman  has  betrayed  you  into  a  lie.  A  scheme,  by  God's 
life  !  worthy  of  a  Machiavelli !  " 

"  I  have  seen  too  many  of  his  type  in  our  parishes,"  said 
Mr.  Washington ;  "  and  yet  the  bishop  of  London  seems  power- 
less. And  so  used  have  we  become  in  these  Southern  colonies 
to  tippling  and  gaming  parsons,  that  I  warrant  his  people 
accept  him  as  nothing  out  of  the  common." 

"  He  is  more  discreet  than  the  run  of  them,  sir.  His  parish- 
ioners dislike  him,  not  because  of  his  irregularities,  but  because 
he  is  attempting  to  obtain  All  Saints  from  his  Lordship,  in 
addition  to  St.  Anne's.     He  is  thought  too  greedy." 

He  was  silent,  his  brow  a  little  furrowed,  and  drummed  with 
his  fingers  upon  the  table. 

"  But  this  I  cannot  reconcile,"  said  he,  presently,  "  that  the 
reward  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  risk.  Such  a  clever 
rascal  must  play  for  higher  stakes." 

I  was  amazed  at  his  insight.  And  for  the  moment  was  im- 
pelled to  make  a  clean  breast  of  my  suspicions,  —  nay,  of  my 


134  RICHAED  CARVEL 

convictions  of  the  whole  devil's  plot.  But  I  had  no  proofs. 
I  remembered  that  to  the  colonel  my  uncle  was  a  gentleman  of 
respectability  and  of  wealth,  and  a  member  of  his  Excellency's 
Council.  That  to  accuse  him  of  scheming  for  my  inheritance 
would  gain  me  nothing  in  Mr.  Washington's  esteem.  And  I 
caught  myself  before  I  had  said  aught  of  Mr.  Allen's  conduct 
that  evening. 

"Have  you  confronted  this  rector  with  his  perfidy,  Rich- 
ard ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have,  colonel,  at  my  first  opportunity."  And  I  related 
how  Mr.  Allen  had  come  to  the  Hall,  and  what  I  had  said  to 
him,  and  how  he  had  behaved.  And  finally  told  of  the  picquet 
we  now  had  during  lessons,  not  caring  to  shield  myself.  Both 
listened  intently,  until  the  captain  broke  out.  Mr.  Washing- 
ton's indignation  was  the  stronger  for  being  repressed. 

"  I  will  call  him  out ! "  cried  Captain  Daniel,  fingering  his 
sword,  as  was  his  wont  when  angered ;  "  I  will  call  him  out 
despite  his  gown,  or  else  horse  him  publicly ! " 

"No,  my  dear  sir,  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the 
colonel.  "  You  would  gain  nothing  by  it  for  the  lad,  and  lose 
much.  Such  rascals  walk  in  water,  and  are  not  to  be  tracked. 
He  cannot  be  approached  save  through  Mr.  Lionel  Carvel 
himself,  and  that  channel,  for  Mr.  Carvel's  sake,  must  be 
closed." 

"  But  he  must  be  shown  up ! "  cried  the  captain. 

"What  good  will  you  accomplish?"  said  Mr.  Washington 5 
"  Lord  Baltimore  is  notorious,  and  will  not  remove  him.  Nay, 
sir,  you  must  find  a  way  to  get  the  lad  from  his  influence." 
And  he  asked  me  how  was  my  grandfather's  health  at  present. 

I  said  that  he  had  mended  beyond  my  hopes. 

"And  does  he  seem  to  rejoice  that  you  are  of  the  King's 
party  ?  " 

"  Nay,  sir.  Concerning  politics  he  seems  strangely  apathetic, 
which  makes  me  fear  he  is  not  so  well  as  he  appears.  All  his 
life  he  has  felt  strongly." 

"  Then  I  beg  you,  Richard,  take  pains  to  keep  neutral.  Nor 
let  any  passing  event,  however  great,  move  you  to  speech  or 
action." 


MK.   ALLEN   SHOWS   HIS   HAND  135 

The  captain  shook  his  head  doubtfully,  as  the'  questioning 
the  ability  of  one  of  my  temper  to  do  this. 

"  I  do  not  trust  myself,  sir,"  I  answered. 

He  rose,  declaring  it  was  past  his  hour  for  bed,  and  added 
some  kind  things  which  I  shall  cherish  in  my  memory.  As  he 
was  leaving  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

"  One  word  of  advice,  my  lad,"  he  said.  "  If  by  any  chance 
your  convictions  are  to  come  to  your  grandfather's  ears,  let 
him  have  them  from  your  own  lips."  And  he  bade  me  good 
night. 

The  captain  tarried  but  a  moment  longer. 

"I  have  a  notion  who  is  to  blame  for  this,  Richard,"  he 
said.  "  When  I  come  back  from  New  York,  we  shall  see  what 
we  shall  see." 

"  I  fear  he  is  too  slippery  for  a  soldier  to  catch,"  I  answered. 

He  went  away  to  bed,  telling  me  to  be  prudent,  and  mind 
the  colonel's  counsel  until  he  returned  from  the  North. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE   VOLTE   COUPE 

I  WAS  of  a  serious  mind  to  take  the  advice.  To  prove  this 
I  called  for  my  wrap-rascal  and  cane,  and  for  a  fellow  with  a 
flambeau  to  light  me.  But  just  then  the  party  arrived  from 
the  assembly.  I  was  tempted,  and  I  sat  down  again  in  a 
corner  of  the  room,  resolved  to  keep  a  check  upon  myself,  but 
to  stay  awhile. 

The  rector  was  the  first  in,  humming  a  song,  and  spied  me. 

"  Ho  ! "  he  cried,  "  will  you  drink,  Richard  ?  Or  do  I  drink 
with  you  ?  " 

He  was  already  purple  with  wine. 

"  God  save  me  from  you   and  your  kind ! "  I  replied. 

"  'Sblood !  what  a  devil's  nest  of  fireworks ! "  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  went  off  down  the  room,  still  humming,  to  where  the  rest 
were  gathered.  And  they  were  soon  between  bottle  and  stop- 
per, and  quips  a-coursing.  There  was  the  captain  of  the  Thun- 
derer, CoUinson  by  name.  Lord  Comyn  and  two  brother  officers. 
Will  Fotheringay,  my  cousin  Philip,  openly  pleased  to  be  fo'-nd 
in  such  a  company,  and  some  dozen  other  toadeaters  who  had 
followed  my  Lord  a-chair  and  afoot  from  the  ball,  and  would 
have  tracked  him  to  perdition  had  he  chosen  to  go ;  and  lastly 
Tom  Swain,  leering  and  hiccoughing  at  the  jokes,  in  such  a 
beastly  state  of  drunkenness  as  I  had  rarely  seen  him.  His 
Lordship  recognized  me  and  smiled,  and  was  pushing  his  chair 
back,  when  something  Collinson  said  seemed  to  restrain  him. 

I  believe  I  was  the  butt  of  more  than  one  jest  for  my  aloof- 
ness, though  I  could  not  hear  distinctly  for  the  noise  they 
made.  I  commanded  some  Prench  cognac,  and  kept  my  eye 
on  the  rector,  and  the  sight  of  him  was  making  me  dangerous 

136 


THE   VOLTE   COUPE  137 

1  forgot  the  advice  I  had  received,  and  remembered  only  the 
months  he  had  goaded  me.  And  I  was  even  beginning  to 
speculate  how  I  could  best  pick  a  quarrel  with  him  on  any 
issue  but  politics,  when  an  unexpected  incident  diverted  me. 
Of  a  sudden  the  tall,  ungainly  form  of  Percy  Singleton  filled 
the  doorway,  wrapped  in  a  greatcoat.  He  swept  the  room 
at  a  glance,  and  then  strode  rapidly  toward  the  corner  where 
I  sat. 

"  I  had  thought  to  find  you  here,"  he  said,  and  dropped  into 
a  chair  beside  me.     I  offered  him  wine,  but  he  refused. 

"  Now,"  he  went  on,  "  what  has  Patt}^  done  ?  " 

"  What  have  I  done  that  I  should  be  publicly  insulted  ?  "  I 
cried. 

"  Insulted  ! "  says  he,  "  and  did  she  insult  you  ?  She  said 
nothing  of  that." 

"  What  brings  you  here,  then  ?  "  I  demanded. 

''Not  to  talk,  Richard,"  he  said  quietly,  "'tis  no  time  to- 
night.    I  came  to  fetch  you  home.     Patty  sent  me." 

Patty  sent  him!  Why  had  Patty  sent  him?  But  this  I 
did  not  ask,  for  I  felt  the  devil  within  me. 

"We  must  first  finish  this  bottle,"  said  I,  offhand,  "and 
then  I  have  a  little  something  to  be  done  which  I  have  set  my 
heart  upon.     After  that  I  will  go  with  you." 

"  Richard,  Richard,  will  you  never  learn  prudence  ?  What 
is  it  you  speak  of  ?  " 

I  drew  my  sword  and  laid  it  upon  the  table. 

"  I  mean  to  spit  that  eel  of  a  rector,"  said  I,  "  or  he  will 
bear  a  slap  in  the  face.     And  you  must  see  fair  play." 

Singleton  seized  my  coat,  at  the  same  time  grasping  the  hilt 
of  my  SAVord  with  the  other  hand.  But  neither  my  words  nor 
my  action  had  gone  unnoticed  by  the  other  end  of  the  room. 
The  company  there  fell  silent  awhile,  and  then  we  heard  Cap- 
tain Collinson  talking  in  even,  drawling  tones. 

"  'Tis  strange,"  said  he,  "  what  hot  sparks  a  man  meets  in 
these  colonies.  They  should  be  stamped  out.  His  Majesty 
pampers  these  d — d  Americans,  is  too  lenient  by  far.  Gentle- 
men, this  is  how  I  would  indulge  them ! "  He  raised  a  closed 
fist  and  brought  it  down  on  the  board. 


138  EICHARD   CARVEL 

He  spoke  to  Tories,  but  he  forgot  that  Tories  were  A.merL 
cans.  In  those  days  only  the  meanest  of  tlie  King's  party 
would  listen  to  such  without  protest  from  an  Englishman. 
But  some  of  the  meaner  sort  were  there :  Philip  and  Tom 
laughed,  and  Mr.  Allen,  and  my  Lord's  sycophants.  Fotherin- 
gay  and  some  others  of  sense  shook  their  heads  one  to  another, 
comprehending  that  Captain  Collinson  was  somewhat  gone  in 
wine.  For,  indeed,  he  had  not  strayed  far  from  the  sideboard 
at  the  assembly.     Comyn  made  a  motion  to  rise. 

"  It  is  already  past  three  bells,  sir,  and  a  hunt  to-morrow," 
he  said. 

"  From  bottle  to  saddle,  and  from  saddle  to  bottle,  my  Lord. 
We  must  have  our  pleasure  ashore,  and  sleep  at  sea,"  and  the 
captain  tipped  his  flask  with  a  leer.  He  turned  his  eye  uncer- 
tainly first  on  me,  then  on  my  Lord.  "AVe  are  lately  from 
Boston,  gentlemen,  that  charnel-house  of  treason,  and  before 
we  leave,  my  Lord,  I  must  tell  them  how  Mr.  Robinson  of  the 
customs  served  that  dog  Otis,  in  the  British  Coffee  House. 
God's  word,  'twas  as  good  as  a  play." 

I  know  not  how  many  got  to  their  feet  at  that,  for  the  story 
of  the  cowardly  beating  of  Mr.  Otis  by  Robinson  and  the  army 
officers  had  swept  over  the  colonies,  burning  like  a  flame  all 
true-hearted  men,  Tory  and  Whig  alike.  I  wrested  my  sword 
from  Singleton's  hold,  and  in  a  trice  I  had  reached  the  captain 
over  chairs  and  table,  tearing  myself  from  Fotheringay  on  the 
way.  I  struck  a  blow  that  measured  a  man  on  the  floor.  Then 
I  drew  back,  amazed. 

I  had  hit  Lord  Comyn  instead  !  The  captain  stood  a  yard 
beyond  me. 

The  thing  had  been  so  deftly  done  by  the  rector  of  St. 
Anne's  —  Comyn  jostled  at  the  proper  moment  between  me  and 
Collinson  —  that  none  save  me  guessed  beyond  an  accident; 
least  of  all  my  Lord  Comyn  himself.  He  was  up  again  directly 
and  his  sword  drawn,  addressing  me. 

"  Bear  witness,  my  Lord,  that  I  have  no  desire  to  fight  with 
you,"  said  I,  with  what  coolness  I  could  muster.  "But  there 
is  one  here  I  would  give  much  for  a  chance  to  run  through." 

And  I  made  a  step  toward  Mr.  Allen  with  such  a  purpose 


THE  VOLTE   COUPE  139 

ID  my  face  and  inovemeuts  t\iat  he  could  not  mistake.  I  saw 
the  blood  go  from  his  face ;  yet  he  was  no  coward  to  physical 
violence.  But  he  (or  I  ?)  was  saved  by  the  Satan's  luck  that 
followed  him,  for  my  Lord  stepped  in  between  us  with  a  bow, 
his  cheek  red  where  I  had  struck  him. 

"  It  is  my  quarrel  now,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  cried. 

''  As  you  please,  my  Lord,"  said  I. 

"  It  boots  not  who  crosses  with  him,"  Captain  Collinson  put 
in.  "  His  Lordship  uses  the  sword  better  than  any  here.  But  it 
boots  not  so  that  he  is  opposed  by  a  loyal  servant  of  the  King." 

I  wheeled  on  him  for  this. 

"  I  would  have  you  know  that  loyalty  does  not  consist  in 
outrage  and  murder,  sir,"  I  answered,  "nor  in  the  ridiculing 
of  them.     And  brutes  cannot  be  loyal  save  through  interest." 

He  was  angered,  as  I  had  desired.  I  had  hopes  then  of 
shouldering  the  quarrel  on  to  him,  for  I  had  near  as  soon 
drawn  against  my  own  brother  as  against  Comyn.  I  protest  I 
loved  him  then  as  one  with  whom  I  had  been  reared. 

"  Let  me  deal  with  this  young  gamecock,  Comyn,"  cried  the 
captain,  with  an  oath.  "He  seems  to  think  his  importance 
sufficient." 

But  Comyn  would  brook  no  interference.  He  swore  that  no 
man  should  strike  him  with  impunity,  and  in  this  I  could  not 
but  allow  he  was  right. 

"  You  shall  hear  from  me,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said. 

"Nay,"  I  answered,  "and  fighting  is  to  be  done,  sir,  let  us 
be  through  with  it  at  once.  A  large  room  upstairs  is  at  our 
disposal ;  and  there  is  a  hunt  to-morrow  which  one  of  us  may 
like  to  attend." 

There  was  a  laugh  at  this,  in  which  his  Lordship  joined. 

"I  would  to  God,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said,  "that  I  had  no 
quarrel  with  you  !  " 

"  Amen  to  that,  my  Lord,"  I  replied ;  "  there  are  others  here 
I  would  rather  fight."  And  I  gave  a  meaning  look  at  Mr. 
Allen.  I  was  of  two  minds  to  announce  the  scurvy  trick  he 
had  played,  but  saw  that  I  would  lose  rather  than  gain  by  the 
attempt.  Up  to  that  time  the  wretch  had  not  spoken  a  wordj 
now  he  pushed  himself  forward,  though  well  clear  of  me. 


140  BICHARD   CARVEL 

"  I  think  it  my  duty  as  Mr.  Carvel's  tutor,  gentlemen,  to 
protest  against  this  matter  proceeding,"  he  said,  a  sneer  creep- 
ing into  his  voice.  "  ISTor  can  I  be  present  at  it.  Mr.  Carvel 
is  young  and,  besides,  is  not  himself  with  liquor.  And,  in  the 
choice  of  politics,  he  knows  not  which  leg  he  stands  upon. 
My  Lord  and  gentlemen,  your  most  humble  and  devoted." 

He  made  a  bow  and,  before  the  retort  on  my  lips  could 
be  spoken,  left  the  tavern.  My  cousin  Philip  left  with  him. 
Tom  Swain  had  fallen  asleep  in  his  chair. 

Captain  Collinson  and  Mr.  Furness,  of  the  TImnderer,  offered 
to  serve  his  Lordship,  which  made  me  bethink  that  I,  too,  would 
have  need  of  some  one.  'Twas  then  I  remembered  Singleton, 
who  had  passed  from  my  mind. 

He  was  standing  close  behind  me,  and  nodded  simply  when 
I  asked  him.     And  Will  Fotheringay  came  forward. 

"  I  will  act,  Richard,  if  you  allow  me,"  he  said.  "  I  would 
have  you  know  I  am  in  no  wise  hostile  to  you,  my  Lord,  and 
I  am  of  the  King's  party.  But  I  admire  Mr.  Carvel,  and  I 
may  say  I  am  not  wholly  out  of  sympathy  with  that  which 
prompted  his  act." 

It  was  a  noble  speech,  and  changed  Will  in  my  eyes ;  and  I 
thanked  him  with  warmth.  He.  of  all  that  company  had  the 
courage  to  oppose  his  Lordship ! 

Mr.  Claude  was  called  in  and,  as  is  the  custom  in  such  cases, 
was  told  that  some  of  us  would  play  awhile  above.  He  was 
asked  for  his  private  room.  The  good  man  had  his  sus- 
picions, but  could  not  refuse  a  party  of  such  distinction,  and 
sent  a  drawer  thither  with  wine  and  cards.  Presently  we 
followed,  leaving  the  pack  of  toadies  in  sad  disappointment 
below. 

We  gathered  about  the  table  and  made  shift  at  loo  until  the 
fellow  had  retired,  when  the  seconds  proceeded  to  clear  the 
room  of  furniture,  and  Lord  Comyn  and  I  stripped  off  our 
coats  and  waistcoats.  I  had  lost  my  anger,  but  felt  no  fear, 
only  a  kind  of  pity  that  blood  should  be  shed  between  two  so 
united  in  spirit  as  we.  Yes,  my  dears,  I  thought  of  Dorothy. 
If  I  died,  she  would  hear  that  it  was  like  a  man  —  like  a 
Carvel.     But  the  thought  of  my  old  grandfather  tightened  my 


THE  VOLTE   COUPE  141 

heart.  Then  the  clock  on  the  inn  stairs  struck  two,  and  the  noise 
of  harsh  laughter  floated  up  to  us  from  below. 

And  Comyn,  —  of  what  was  he  thinking  ?  Of  some  fair 
home  set  upon  the  downs  across  the  sea,  of  some  heroic  Eng- 
lish mother  who  had  kept  her  tears  until  he  was  gone  ?  Her 
image  rose  in  dumb  entreaty,  invoked  by  the  lad  before  me. 
What  a  picture  was  he  in  his  spotless  shirt  with  the  ruffles, 
his  handsome  boyish  face  all  that  was  good  and  honest ! 

I  had  scarce  felt  his  Lordship's  wrist  than  I  knew  I  had  to 
deal  with  a  pupil  of  Angelo.  At  first  his  attacks  were  all 
simple,  without  feint  or  trickery,  as  were  mine.  Collinson 
cursed  and  cried  out  that  it  was  buffoonery,  and  called  on  my 
Lord  not  to  let  me  off  so  easily ;  swore  that  I  fenced  like  a 
mercer,  that  he  could  have  stuck  me  like  a  pin-cushion  twenty 
and  twenty  times.  Often  have  I  seen  two  animals  thrust  into 
a  pit  with  nothing  but  good-will  between  them,  and  those  with- 
out force  them  into  anger  and  a  deadly  battle.  And  so  it  was, 
unconsciously,  between  Comyn  and  me.  I  forgot  presently 
that  I  was  not  dealing  with  Captain  Collinson,  and  my  feelings 
went  into  my  sword.  Comyn  began  to  press  me,  nor  did  I  give 
back.  And  then,  before  it  came  over  me  that  we  had  to  do 
with  life  and  death,  he  was  upon  me  with  a  volte  coupe,  feint- 
ing in  high  carle  and  thrusting  in  low  tierce,  his  point  passing 
through  a  fold  in  my  shirt.  And  I  were  not  alive  to  write 
these  words  had  I  not  leaped  out  of  his  measure. 

''  Bravo,  Richard  !  "  cried  Fotheringay. 

"  Well  made,  gad's  life !  "  from  Mr.  Furness. 

.We  engaged  again,  our  faces  hot.  Now  I  knew  that  if  I 
did  not  carry  the  matter  against  him  I  should  be  killed  out  of 
hand,  and  Heaven  knows  1  was  not  used  to  pla}'  a  passive  part. 
I  began  to  go  carefully,  but  fiercely;  tried  one  attack  after 
another  that  ray  grandfather  and  Captain  Daniel  had  taught 
me,  —  flanconnades,  beats,  and  lunges.  Comyn  held  me  even, 
and  in  truth  I  had  much  to  do  to  defend  myself.  Once  I 
thought  I  had  him  in  the  sword-arm,  after  a  circular  parry, 
but  he  was  too  quick  for  me.  We  were  sweating  freely  by 
now,  and  by  reason  of  the  buzzing  in  my  ears  I  could  scarce 
hear  ths  applause  of  the  seconds. 


142  RICHARD   CARVEL 

What  unlucky  chance  it  was  I  know  not  that  impelled 
Comyn  to  essay  again  the  trick  by  which  he  had  come  so  near 
to  spitting  me ;  but  try  it  he  did,  this  time  in  prime  and 
seconde.  I  had  come  by  nature  to  that  intuition  which  a 
true  swordsman  must  have,  gleaned  from  the  eyes  of  his  adver- 
sary. Long  ago  Captain  Daniel  had  taught  me  the  remedy 
for  this  coupe.  I  parried,  circled,  and  straightened,  my  body 
in  swift  motion  and  my  point  at  Comyn's  heart,  when  Heaven 
brought  me  recollection  in  the  space  of  a  second.  My  sword 
rang  clattering  on  the  floor. 

His  Lordship  understood,  but  too  late.  Despairing  his  life, 
he  made  one  wild  lunge  at  me  that  had  never  gone  home  had 
I  held  to  my  hilt.  But  the  rattle  of  the  blade  had  scarce 
reached  my  ears  when  there  came  a  sharp  pain  at  my  throat, 
and  the  room  faded  before  me.  I  heard  the  clock  striking  the 
half -hour. 

I  was  blessed  with  a  sturdy  health  such  as  few  men  enjoy, 
and  came  to  myself  sooner  than  had  been  looked  for,  with  a 
dash  of  cold  water.  And  the  first  face  I  beheld  was  that  of 
Colonel  Washington.  I  heard  him  speaking  in  a  voice  that 
was  calm,  yet  urgent  and  commanding. 

"I  pray  you,  gentlemen,  give  back.  He  is  coming  to,  and 
must  have  air.     Fetch  some  linen  !  " 

"  Now  God  be  praised  ! "  I  heard  Captain  Daniel  cry. 

With  that  his  Lordship  began  to  tear  his  own  shirt  into 
strips,  and  the  captain  bringing  a  bowl  and  napkin,  the  colonel 
himself  washed  the  wound  and  bound  it  deftly.  Singleton  and 
Captain  Daniel  assisting.  When  Mr.  Washington  had  fin- 
ished, he  turned  to  Comyn,  who  stood,  anxious  and  dishevelled, 
at  my  feet. 

"  You  may  be  thankful  that  you  missed  the  artery,  my 
Lord,"  he  said. 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Colonel  Washington ! "  cried  his  Lord- 
ship.    "I  owe  my  life  to  his  generosity." 

"  What's  that,  sir  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Carvel  dropped  his  sword,  rather  than  run  me  through." 

"  I'll  warrant !  "  Captain  Daniel  put  in ;  "  'Od's  heart  I     The 


THE   VOLTE   COUPE  143 

lad  has  skill  to  point  the  eye  of  a  button.  I  taught  him 
myself." 

Colonel  Washington  stood  up  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  cap- 
tain's arm. 

"  He  is  Jack  Carvel  over  again,"  I  heard  him  say,  in  a  low 
voice. 

I  tried  to  struggle  to  my  feet,  to  speak,  but  he  restrained 
me.  And  sending  for  his  servants,  he  ordered  them  to  have 
his  baggage  removed  from  the  Eoebuck,  which  was  the  best 
bed  in  the  house.  At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Mr. 
Swain  came  in  hurriedly. 

"I  pray  you,  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  "and  he  is  fit  to  be 
moved,  you  will  let  me  take  him  to  Marlboro'  Street.  I  have 
a  chariot  at  the  door." 


CHAPTER  XV 

OP   WHICH   THE   RECTOR   HAS    THE   WORST 

'TwAS  late  when  I  awoke  the  next  day  with  something  of  a 
dull  ache  in  my  neck,  and  a  prodigious  stiffness,  studying  the 
pleatings  of  the  bed  canopy  over  my  head.  And  I  know  not 
how  long  I  lay  idly  thus  when  I  perceived  Mrs.  Willis  moving 
quietly  about,  and  my  grandfather  sitting  in  the  armchair  by 
the  window,  looking  into  Freshwater  Lane.  As  my  eyes  fell 
upon  him  my  memory  came  surging  back,  —  first  of  the  duel, 
then  of  its  cause.  And  finally,  like  a  leaden  weight,  the 
thought  of  the  deception  I  had  practised  upon  him,  of  which 
he  must  have  learned  ere  this.  Nay,  I  was  sure  from  the 
troubled  look  of  his  face  that  he  knew  of  it. 

"  Mr.  Carvel,"  I  said. 

At  the  sound  of  my  voice  he  got  hastily  from  his  chair  and 
hurried  to  my  side. 

"  Richard,"  he  answered,  taking  my  hand,  "  Richard ! " 

I  opened  my  mouth  to  speak,  to  confess.  But  he  prevented 
me,  the  tears  filling  the  wrinkles  around  his  eyes. 

"  Nay,  lad,  nay.     We  will  not  talk  of  it.     I  know  all." 

"  Mr.  Allen  has  been  here  — "I  began. 

"  And  be  d — d  to  him !  Be  d — d  to  him  for  a  wolf  in 
sheep's  clothing ! "  shouted  my  grandfather,  his  manner  shift- 
ing so  suddenly  to  anger  that  I  was  taken  back.  "  So  help  me 
God  I  will  never  set  foot  in  St.  Anne's  while  he  is  rector.  Nor 
shall  he  come  to  this  house  ! " 

And  he  took  three  or  four  disorderly  turns  about  the  room. 

"  Ah ! "  he  continued  more  quietly,  with  something  of  a  sigh, 
"  I  might  have  known  how  stubborn  your  mind  should  be.  That 
you  was  never  one  to  blow  from  the  north  one  day  and  from 

144 


OF  WHICH  THE  EECTOR  HAS  THE  WORST    145 

the  south  the  next.  I  deny  not  that  there  be  good  men  and 
able  of  your  way  of  thinking:  Colonel  Washington,  for  one, 
whom  I  admire  and  honour;  and  our  friend  Captain  Daniel. 
They  have  been  here  to-day,  Richard,  and  I  promise  you  were 
good  advocates." 

Then  I  knew  that  I  was  forgiven.  And  I  could  have  thrown 
myself  at  Mr.  Carvel's  feet  for  happiness. 

"  Has  Colonel  Washington  spoken  in  my  favour,  sir  ?  " 

"That  he  has.  He  is  upon  some  urgent  business  for  the 
North,  I  believe,  which  he  delayed  for  your  sake.  Both  he 
and  the  captain  were  in  my  dressing-room  before  I  was  up, 
ahead  of  that  scurrilous  clergyman,  who  was  for  pushing  his 
way  to  my  bed-curtains.  Ay,  the  two  of  them  were  here  at 
nigh  dawn  this  morning,  and  Mr.  Allen  close  after  them.  And 
I  own  that  Captain  Daniel  can  swear  with  such  a  consuming 
violence  as  to  put  any  rogue  out  of  countenance.  'Twas  all 
Mr.  Washington  could  do  to  restrain  Clapsaddle  from  booting 
his  Reverence  over  the  balustrade  and  down  two  runs  of  the 
stairs,  the  captain  declaring  he  would  do  for  every  cur's  son  of 
the  whelps.  'Diomedes,'  says  I,  waking  up,.' what's  this  dam- 
nable racket  on  the  landing?  Is  Mr.  Richard  home?'  For  I 
had  some  notion  it  was  you,  sir,  after  an  over-night  brawl. 
And  I  profess  I  would  have  caned  you  soundly.  The  fellow 
answered  that  Captain  Clapsaddle's  honour  was  killing  Mr. 
Allen,  and  went  out;  and  came  back  presently  to  say  that 
some  tall  gentleman  had  the  captain  by  the  neck,  and  that 
Mr.  Allen  was  picking  his  way  down  the  ice  on  the  steps  out- 
side.    With  that  I  went  in  to  them  in  my  dressing-gown. 

"  '  What's  all  this  to-do,  gentlemen  ? '  said  I. 

" '  I'd  have  finished  that  son  of  a  dog,'  says  the  captain, '  and 
Colonel  Washington  had  let  me.' 

"'What,  what!'  said  I.  'How  now?  What!  Drive  a 
clergyman  from  my  house !  What's  Richard  been  at  now, 
gentlemen  ?  ' 

"  Mr.  Washington  asked  me  to  dress,  saying  that  they  had 
something  very  particular  to  speak  about ;  that  they  would 
stay  to  breakfast  with  me,  tho'  they  were  in  haste  to  be  gone  to 
New  York.     I  made  my  compliments  to  the  colonel  and  had 


146  RICHARD   CARVEL 

them  shown  to  the  library  fire,  and  hurried  down  after  them 
Then  they  told  me  of  this  affair  last  night,  and  they  cleared 
you,  sir.  '  Faith,'  cried  I, '  and  I  would  have  fought,  too.  The 
lad  was  in  the  right  of  it,  though  I  would  have  him  a  little  less 
hasty.'  D — n  me  if  I  don't  wish  you  had  knocked  that  sea- 
captain's  teeth  into  his  throat,  and  his  brains  with  them.  I 
like  your  spirit,  sir.  A  pox  on  such  men  as  he,  who  disgrace 
his  Majesty's  name  and  set  better  men  against  him." 

"  And  they  told  you  nothing  else,  sir  ? "  I  asked,  with 
misgiving. 

"  That  they  did.  Mr.  Washington  repeated  the  confession 
you  made  to  them,  sir,  in  a  manner  that  did  you  credit.  He 
made  me  compliments  on  you,  —  said  that  you  were  a  man, 
sir,  though  a  trifle  hasty :  in  the  which  I  agreed.  Yes,  d — n 
me,  a  trifle  hasty  like  your  father.  I  rejoice  that  you  did  not 
kill  his  Lordship,  my  son." 

The  twilight  was  beginning;  and  the  old  gentleman  going 
back  to  his  chair  was  set  a-musing,  gazing  out  across  the  bare 
trees  and  gables  falling  gray  after  the  sunset. 

What  amazed  me  was  that  he  did  not  seem  to  be  shocked 
by  the  revelation  near  as  mu^ch  as  I  had  feared.  So  this  mat- 
ter had  brought  me  happiness  where  I  looked  for  nothing  but 
sorrow. 

"  And  the  gentlemen  are  gone  north,  sir  ? "  said  I,  after  a 
while. 

"  Yes,  Richard,  these  four  hours.  I  commanded  an  early 
dinner  for  them,  since  the  colonel  was  pleased  to  tarry  long 
enough  for  a  little  politics  and  to  spin  a  glass.  And  I  profess, 
was  I  to  live  neighbours  with  such  a  man,  I  might  come  to 
his  way  of  thinking,  despite  myself.  Though  I  say  it  that 
shouldn't,  some  of  his  Majesty's  ministers  are  d — d  rascals." 

I  laughed.  As  I  live,  I  never  hoped  to  hear  such  words 
from  my  grandfather's  lips. 

"He  did  not  seek  to  convince,  like  so  many  of  your  hot- 
headed know-it-alls,"  said  Mr,  Carvel;  "he  leaves  a  man  to 
convince  himself.  He  has  great  parts,  Richard,  and  few  can 
stand  before  him."  He  paused.  And  then  his  smooth-shaven 
face  became  creased  in  a  roguish  smile  which  I  had  often  seen 


OF  WHICH  THE  RECTOR  HAS  THE  WORST     147 

upon  it.  "  What  baggage  is  this  I  hear  of  that  you  quarrelled 
over  at  the  assembly  ?  Ah,  sir,  I  fear  you  are  become  but  a 
sad  rake  !  "  says  he. 

But  by  great  good  fortune  Dr.  Leiden  was  shown  in  at  this 
instant.  And  the  candles  being  lighted,  he  examined  my  neck, 
haranguing  the  while  in  his  vile  English  against  the  practice 
of  duelling.  He  bade  me  keep  my  bed  for  two  days,  thereby 
giving  me  no  great  pleasure. 

"  As  I  liope  to  live,"  said  Mr.  Carvel  when  the  doctor  was 
gone,  "one  would  have  thought  his  Excellency  himself  had 
been  pinked  instead  of  a  whip  of  a  lad,  for  the  people  who 
have  been  here.  His  Lordship  and  Dr.  Courtenay  came  before 
the  hunt,  and  young  Mr.  Fotheringay,  and  half  a  score  of 
others.  Mr.  Swain  is  but  now  left  to  go  to  Baltimore  on  some 
barrister's  business." 

1  was  burning  to  learn  what  the  rector  had  said  to  Patty, 
but  it  was  plain  Mr.  Carvel  knew  nothing  of  this  part  of  the 
story.  He  had  not  mentioned  Grafton  among  the  callers.  I 
wondered  Avhat  course  my  uncle  would  now  pursue,  that  his 
plans  to  alienate  me  from  my  grandfather  had  failed.  And  I 
began  debating  whether  or  not  to  lay  the  Avhole  plot  before 
Mr.  Carvel.  Prudence  bade  me  wait,  since  Grafton  had  not 
consorted  with  the  rector  —  openly,  at  least  —  for  more  than 
a  year.     And  yet  I  spoke. 

"  Mr.  Carvel ! " 

He  stirred  in  his  chair. 

•'Yes,  my  son." 

He  had  to  repeat,  and  still  I  held  my  tongue.  Even  as  I 
nesitated  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Scipio  entered, 
bearing  candles. 

"  Massa  Grafton,  suh,"  he  said. 

My  uncle  was  close  at  his  heels.  He  was  soberly  dressed  in 
dark  brown  silk,  and  his  face  wore  that  expression  of  sorrow 
and  concern  he  knew  how  to  assume  at  will.  After  greeting 
his  father  with  his  usual  ceremony,  he  came  to  my  bedside  and 
asked  gravely  how  I  did. 

"  How  now,  Grafton !  "  cried  Mr.  Carvel ;  "  this  is  no  funeral. 
The  lad  has  only  a  scratch,  thank  God !  " 


148  RICHARD   CARVEL 

My  uncle  looked  at  me  and  forced  a  smile. 

"  Indeed  I  am  rejoiced  to  find  you  are  not  worried  over  this 
matter,  father,"  said  he.  "  I  am  but  just  back  from  Kent  to 
learn  of  it,  and  looked  to  find  you  in  bed." 

"  Why,  no,  sir,  I  am  not  worried.  I  fought  a  duel  in  my  own 
day,  —  over  a  lass,  it  was." 

This  time  Grafton's  smile  was  not  forced. 

"  Over  a  lass,  was  it  ?  "  he  asked,  and  added  in  a  tone  of 
relief,  "  and  how  do  you,  nephew  ?  " 

Mr.  Carvel  saved  me  from  replying. 

"  'Od's  life !  "  he  cried ;  "  no,  I  did  not  say  this  was  over  a 
lass.  I  have  heard  the  whole  matter ;  how  Captain  Collinson, 
who  is  a  disgrace  to  the  service,  brought  shame  upon  his 
Majesty's  supporters,  and  how  Richard  felled  the  young  lord 
instead.  I'll  be  sworn,  and  I  had  been  there,  I  myself  would 
have  run  the  brute  through." 

My  uncle  did  not  ask  for  further  particulars,  but  took  a 
chair,  and  a  dish  of  tea  from  Scipio.  His  smug  look  told  me 
plainer  than  words  that  he  thought  my  grandfather  still  igno- 
rant of  my  Whig  sentiments. 

"  I  often  wish  that  this  deplorable  practice  of  duelling  might 
be  legislated  against,"  he  remarked.-  "  Was  there  no  one  at  the 
Coffee  House  with  character  enough  to  stop  the  lads  ?  " 

Here  was  my  chance. 

"  Mr.  Allen  was  there,"  I  said. 

"  A  devil's  plague  upon  him ! "  shouted  my  grandfather, 
beating  the  floor  with  his  stick.  "  And  the  lying  hypocrite  ever 
crosses  my  path,  by  gad's  life !  I'll  tear  his  gown  from  his 
back ! " 

I  watched  Grafton  narrowly.  Such  as  he  never  turn  pale, 
but  he  set  down  his  tea  so  hastily  as  to  spill  the  most  of  it  on 
the  dresser. 

"  Why,  you  astound  me,  my  dear  father  ! "  he  faltered ;  "  Mr. 
Allen  a  lying  hypocrite  ?     What  can  he  have  done  ?  " 

*'  Done ! "  cried  my  grandfather,  sputtering  and  red  as  a 
cherry  with  indignation.  "  He  is  as  rotten  within  as  a  pricked 
pear,  I  tell  you,  sir !  For  the  sake  of  retaining  the  lad  in  his 
tuition  he  came  to  me  and  lied,  sir,  just  after  I  had  escaped 


OF  WHICH  THE  RECTOR  HAS  THE  WORST     149 

death,  and  said  that  by  his  influence  Richard  had  become  loyal, 
and  set  dependence  upon  Richard's  fear  of  the  shock  'twould 
give  me  if  he  confessed —  Richard,  who  never  told  me  a  false- 
hood in  his  life !  And  instead  of  teaching  him,  he  has  gamed 
with  the  lad  at  the  rectory.  I  dare  make  oath  he  has  treated 
your  son  to  a  like  instruction.  'Slife,  sir,  and  he  had  his 
deserts,  he  would  hang  from  a  gibbet  at  the  Town  Gate." 

I  raised  up  in  bed  to  see  the  effect  of  this  on  my  uncle.  But 
however  the  wind  veered,  Grafton  could  steer  a  course.  He 
got  up  and  began  pacing  the  room,  and  his  agitation  my  grand- 
father took  for  indignation  such  as  his  own. 

"  The  dog !  "  he  cried  fiercely.  "  The  villain !  Philip  shall 
leave  him  to-morrow.  And  to  think  that  it  was  I  who  moved 
you  to  put  Richard  to  him  !  " 

His  distress  seemed  so  real  that  Mr.  Carvel  replied :  — 

"No,  Grafton,  'twas  not  your  fault.  You  were  deceived  as 
dich  as  I.  You  have  put  your  own  son  to  him.  But  if  I  live 
another  twelve  hours  I  shall  write  his  Lordship  to  remove  him. 
What !     You  shake  your  head,  sir ! " 

"  It  will  not  do,"  said  my  uncle.  "  Lord  Baltimore  has  had 
his  reasons  for  sending  such  a  scoundrel  —  he  knew  what  he 
was,  you  may  be  sure,  father.  His  Lordship,  sir,  is  the  most 
abandoned  rake  in  London,  and  that  unmentionable  crime  of 
his  but  lately  in  the  magazines  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  my  grandfather  interrupted ;  "  I  have  seen  it. 
But  I  will  publish  him  in  Annapolis." 

My  uncle's  answer  startled  me,  so  like  was  it  to  the  argu- 
ment Colonel  Washington  himself  had  used. 

"  What  would  you  publish,  sir  ?  Mr.  Allen  will  reply  that 
what  he  did  was  for  the  lad's  good,  and  your  own.  He  may 
swear  that  since  Richard  mentioned  politics  no  more  he  had 
taken  his  conversion  for  granted." 

My  grandfather  groaned,  and  did  not  speak,  and  I  saw  the 
futility  of  attempting  to  bring  Grafton  to  earth  for  a  while  yet. 

My  uncle  had  recovered  his  confidence.  He  had  hoped,  so 
he  said,  that  I  had  become  a  good  loyalist:  perchance  as  I 
grew  older  I  would  see  the  folly  of  those  who  called  them- 
selves Patriots.     But  my  grandfather  cried  out  to  him  not  to 


150  RICHARD   CARVEL 

bother  me  then.  And  when  at  last  he  was  gone,  of  my  own 
volition  I  proposed  to  promise  Mr,  Carvel  that,  while  he  lived, 
I  would  take  no  active  part  in  any  troubles  that  might  come. 
He  stopped  me  with  some  vehemence. 

"  I  pray  God  there  may  be  no  troubles,  lad,"  he  answered ; 
"  but  you  need  give  me  no  promise.  I  would  rather  see  you  in 
the  Whig  ranks  than  a  trimmer,  for  the  Carvels  have  ever  been 
partisans." 

I  tried  to  express  my  gratitude.  But  he  sighed  and  wished 
me  good  night,  bidding  me  get  some  rest. 

I  had  scarce  finished  my  breakfast  the  next  morning  when  I 
heard  a  loud  rat-tat-tat  upon  the  street  door  —  surely  the  foot- 
man of  some  person  of  consequence.  And  Scipio  was  in  the 
act  of  announcing  the  names  when,  greatly  to  his  disgust, 
the  visitors  themselves  rushed  into  my  bedroom  and  curtailed 
the  ceremony.  They  were  none  other  than  Dr.  Courtenay  and 
my  Lord  Comyn  himself.  His  Lordship  had  no  sooner  seen 
me  than  he  ran  to  the  bed,  grasped  both  my  hands  and  asked 
me  how  I  did,  declaring  he  would  not  have  gone  to  yesterday's 
hunt  had  he  been  permitted  to  visit  me. 

"Richard,"  cried  the  doctor,  "your  fame  has  sprung  up  like 
Jonah's  gourd.  The  Gazette  is  but  just  distributed.  Here's 
for  you !     'Twill  set  the  wags  a-going,  I'll  warrant." 

He  drew  tiie  newspaper  from  his  pocket  and  began  to  read, 
stopping  now  and  anon  to  laugh :  — 

"  Rumour  hath  it  that  a  Young  Gentleman  of  Quality  of  this 
Town,  who  is  possessed  of  more  Valour  than  Discretion,  and 
whose  Skill  at  Fence  and  in  the  Field  is  beyond  his  Years, 
crossed  Swords  on  Wednesday  ISTight  with  a  Young  Nobleman 
from  the  Thunderer.  The  Cause  of  this  Deplorable  Quarrel, 
which  had  its  Origin  at  the  Ball,  is  purported  to  have  been  a 
Young  Lady  of  Wit  and  Beauty.  (&  we  doubt  it  not;  for, 
alas !  the  Sex  hath  Much  to  answer  for  of  this  Kind.> 

"  The  Gentlemen,  with  their  Seconds,  repaired  after  the  As- 
sembly to  the  Coffee  House,  'Tis  said  upon  Authority  that 
H-s  L — dsh-p  owes  his  Life  to  the  Noble  Spirit  of  our  Young 
American,  who  cast  down  his  Blade  rather  than  sheathe  it  in 
his  Adversary's  Body,  thereby  himself  receiving  a  Grievous, 


OF  WHICH  THE  RECTOR  HAS  THE  WORST    151 

tho'  happily  not  Mortal,  Wound.  Our  Young  Gentleman  is 
become  the  Hero  of  the  Town,  and  the  Subject  of  Prodigious 
Anxiety  of  all  the  Ladies  thereof." 

"  There's  for  you,  my  lad ! "  says  he ;  *'  Mr.  G/:een  has  done 
for  you  both  cleverly." 

"  Upon  my  soul,"  I  cried,  raising  up  in  bed,  "  he  should  be 
put  in  the  gatehouse  for  his  impudence  !     My  Lord, — " 

"Don't  *My  Lord'  me,"  says  Comyn;  "plain  'Jack'  will 
do." 

There  was  no  resisting  such  a  man:  and  I  said  as  much. 
And  took  his  hand  and  called  him  'Jack,'  the  doctor  posing 
before  the  mirror  the  while,  stroking  his  ruffles.  "  Out  upon 
you  both,"  says  he,  "  for  a  brace  of  sentimental  fools ! " 

"  Richard,"  said  Comyn,  presently,  with  a  roguish  glance  at 
the  doctor,  "there  were  some  reason  in  our  fighting  had  it 
been  over  a  favour  of  Miss  Manners.  Eh  ?  Come,  doctor,"  he 
cried,  "  you  will  break  your  neck  looking  for  the  reflection  of 
wrinkles.  Come,  now,  Ave  must  have  little  Finery's  letter.  I 
give  you  my  word  Chartersea  is  as  ugly  as  all  three  heads  of 
Cerberus,  and  as  foul  as  a  ship's  barrel  of  grease.  I  tell  you 
Miss  Dorothy  would  sooner  marry  you." 

"  And  she  might  do  worse,  my  Lord,"  the  doctor  flung  back, 
with  a  strut. 

"Ay,  and  better.  But  I  promise  you  Richard  and  I  are 
not  such  fools  as  to  think  she  will  marry  his  Grace.  We  must 
have  the  little  coxcomb's  letter." 

"Well,  have  it  you  must,  I  suppose,"  returns  the  doctor. 
And  with  that  he  draws  it  from  his  pocket,  where  he  has  it 
buttoned  in.     Then  he  took  a  pinch  of  Holland  and  began. 

The  first  two  pages  had  to  deal  with  Miss  Dorothy's  tri- 
umph, to  which  her  father  made  full  justice.  Mr.  Manners 
would  have  the  doctor  (and  all  the  province)  to  know  that 
peers  of  the  realm,  soldiers,  and  statesmen  were  at  her  feet. 
Orders  were  as  plentiful  in  his  drawing-room  as  the  candles. 
And  he  had  taken  a  house  in  Arlington  Street,  where  Horry 
Walpole  lived  when  not  at  Strawberry,  and  their  entrance  was 
crowded  night  and  day  with  the  footmen  and  chairmen  of  the 
grand  monde.      Lord  Comyn  broke  in  more  than  once  upon 


152  RICHARD  CARVEL 

the  reading,  crying,  —  "  Hear,  hear ! "  and,  —  "  My  word,  Mr. 
Manners  lias  not  perjured  himself  thus  far.     He  has  not  done 
her  justice  by  half."     And  I  smiled  at  the  thought  that  I  had 
aspired  to  such  a  beauty ! 

"  'Entre  nous,  mon  cher  Courtenay,'  Mr.  Manners  writes,  'entre 
'  nous,  our  Dorothy  hath  had  many  offers  of  great  advantage  since 
she  hath  been  here.  And  but  yesterday  comes  a  chariot  with  a 
ducal  coronet  to  our  door.  His  Grace  of  Chartersea,  if  you 
please,  to  request  a  private  talk  with  me.  And  I  rode  with 
him  straightway  to  his  house  in  Hanover  Square.' " 

"  'Egad !  And  would  gladly  have  ridden  straightway  to  New- 
gate, in  a  ducal  chariot ! "  cried  his  Lordship,  in  a  lit  of  laughter. 

" '  I  rode  to  Hanover  Square,'  the  doctor  continued,  '  where 
we  discussed  the  matter  over  a  bottle.  His  Grace's  generosity 
was  such  that  I  could  not  but  cry  out  at  it,  for  he  left  me  to 
name  any  settlement  I  pleased.  He  must  have  Dorothy  at  any 
price,  said  he.  And  I  give  you  my  honour,  mon  clier  Courtenay, 
that  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  back  to  Arlington  Street,  anc? 
called  Dorothy  down  to  tell  her.' " 

"Now  may  I  be  flayed,"  said  Comyn,  "if  ever  there  was 
such  another  ass  !  " 

The  doctor  took  more  snuff  and  fell  a-laughing. 

"But  hark  to  this,"  said  he,  "here's  the  cream  of  it  all: 
'  You  will  scarce  believe  me  when  I  say  that  the  baggage  was 
near  beside  herself  with  anger  at  what  I  had  to  tell  her. 
"  Marry  that  misshapen  duke  ! "  cries  she,  "  I  would  quicker 
marry  Doctor  Johnson ! "  And  truly,  I  begin  to  fear  she  hath 
formed  an  affection  for  some  like,  foul-linened  beggar.  That 
his  Grace  is  misshapen  I  cannot  deny ;  but  I  tried  reason  upon 
her.  "  Think  of  the  coronet,  my  dear,  and  of  the  ancient  name 
to  which  it  belongs."  She  only  stamps  her  foot  and  cries  out : 
"  Coronet  fiddlesticks  !  And  are  you  not  content  with  the 
name  you  bear,  sir  ?  "  "  Our  name  is  good  as  any  in  the  three 
kingdoms,"  said  I,  with  truth.  "  Then  you  would  have  me,  for 
the  sake  of  the  coronet,  joined  to  a  wretch  who  is  steeped  in 
debauchery.  Yes,  debauchery,  sir !  You  might  then  talk, 
forsooth,  to  the  macaronies  of  Maryland,  of  your  daughter  the 
Duchess."'" 


OF  WHICH  THE  RECTOR  HAS  THE  WORST     153 

"  There's  spirit  for  you,  my  lad !  "  Comyn  shouted  ;  "  I  give 
you  Miss  Dorotliy."  And  he  drained  a  glass  of  punch  Scipio 
had  brought  in,  Doctor  Courtenay  and  I  joining  him  with  a 
will. 

"  I  pray  you  go  on,  sir,"  I  said  to  the  doctor. 

"  A  pest  on  your  impatience  ! "  replied  he ;  "I  begin  to  think 
you  are  in  love  with  her  yourself." 

"  To  be  sure  he  is,"  said  Comyn ;  "  he  had  lost  my  esteem 
and  he  were  not." 

The  doctor  gave  me  an  odd  look.     I  was  red  enough,  indeed. 

" '  I  could  say  naught,  my  dear  Courtenay,  to  induce  her  to 
believe  that  his  Grace's  indiscretions  arose  from  the  wildness 
of  youth.  And  I  pass  over  the  injustice  she  hath  unwittingly 
done  me,  whose  only  efforts  are  for  her  bettering.  The  end 
of  it  all  was  that  I  must  needs  post  back  to  the  duke,  who  Avas 
stamping  with  impatience  up  and  down,  and  drinking  Bur- 
gundy. I  am  sure  I  meant  him  no  offence,  but  told  him  in  as 
many  words,  that  my  daughter  had  refused  him.  And,  will 
you  believe  me,  sir  ?  He  took  occasion  to  insult  me  (T  cannot 
with  propriety  repeat  his  speech),  and  he  flung  a  bottle  after 
me  as  I  passed  out  the  door.  Was  he  not  far  gone  in  wine  at 
the  time,  I  assure  you  I  had  called  him  out  for  it.' " 

"  And,  gentlemen,"  said  the  doctor,  when  our  merriment  was 
somewhat  spent,  "  I'll  lay  a  pipe  of  the  best  Madeira,  that  our 
little  fool  never  knows  the  figure  he  has  cut  with  his  Grace." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IN   WHICH    SOME    THINGS    ARE   MADE   CLEAR 

The  Thunderer  weighed  the  next  day,  Saturday,  while  I  was 
still  upon  my  back,  and  Comyn  sailed  with  her.  Not,  however, 
before  I  had  seen  him  again.  Our  affection  was  such  as  comes 
not  often  to  those  who  drift  together  to  part.  And  he  left  me 
that  sword  with  the  jewelled  hilt,  that  hangs  above  my  study 
fire,  which  he  had  bought  in  Toledo.  He  told  me  that  he  was 
heartily  sick  of  the  navy ;  that  he  had  entered  only  in  respect 
for  a  wish  of  his  father's,  the  late  Admiral  Lord  Comyn,  and 
that  the  Thunderer  was  to  sail  for  New  York,  where  he  looked 
for  a  release  from  his  commission,  and  whence  he  would  return 
to  England.  He  would  carry  any  messages  to  Miss  Manners 
that  I  chose  to  send.  But  I  could  think  of  none,  save  to  beg 
him  to  remind  her  that  she  was  constantly  in  my  thoughts. 
He  promised  me,  roguishly  enough,  that  he  would  have  thought 
of  a  better  than  that  by  the  time  he  sighted  Cape  Clear.  And 
were  I  ever  to  come  to  London  he  would  put  me  up  at  Brooks's 
Club,  and  warrant  me  a  better  time  and  more  friends  than  ever 
had  a  Caribbee  who  came  home  on  a  visit. 

My  grandfather  kept  his  word  in  regard  to  Mr.  Allen,  and 
on  Sunday  commanded  the  coach  at  eight.  We  drove  over  bad 
roads  to  the  church  at  South  Kiver.  And  he  afterwards  de- 
clined the  voluntary  aid  he  hitherto  had  been  used  to  give  to 
St.  Anne's.  In  the  meantime,  good  Mr.  Swain  had  called 
again,  bringing  some  jelly  and  cake  of  Patty's  own  making ; 
and  a  letter  writ  out  of  the  sincerity  of  her  heart,  full  of  tender 
concern  and  of  penitence.  She  would  never  cease  to  blame 
herself  for  the  wrong  she  now  knew  she  had  done  me. 

Though  still  somewhat  weak  from  my  wound  and  confine- 

154 


SOME   THINGS   ARE   MADE   CLEAR  155 

nient,  after  dinner  that  Sunday  I  repaired  to  Gloucester  Street 
From  the  window  she  saw  me  coming,  and,  bare-headed,  ran  out 
in  the  cold  to  meet  me.  Her  eyes  rested  first  on  the  linen 
around  my  throat,  and  she  seemed  all  in  a  fire  of  anxiety. 

''  I  had  thought  you  would  come  to-day,  when  I  heard  you 
had  been  to  South  River,"  she  said. 

I  was  struck  all  of  a  sudden  with  her  looks.  Her  face  was 
pale,  and  I  saw  that  she  had  suffered  as  much  again  as  1. 
Troubled,  I  followed  her  into  the  little  library.  The  day  was 
fading  fast,  and  the  leaping  flames  behind  the  andirons  threw 
fantastic  shadows  across  the  beams  of  the  ceiling.  We  sat 
together  "in  the  deep  window. 

"  And  you  have  forgiven  me,  Richard  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  An  hundred  times,"  I  replied.  "  I  deserved  all  I  got,  and 
more." 

"  If  I  had  not  wronged  and  insulted  you  — " 

"  You  did  neither,  Patty,"  I  broke  in ;  "I  have  played  a 
doiible  part  for  the  first  and  last  time  in  my  life,  and  I  have 
been  justly  punished  for  it." 

"'Twas  I  sent  you  to  the  Coffee  House,"  she  cried,  "where 
you  might  have  been  killed.  How  I  despise  myself  for  listen- 
ing to  Mr.  Allen's  tales  ! " 

"  Then  it  was  Mr.  Allen ! "  I  exclaimed,  fetching  a  long 
breath. 

"Yes,  yes;  I  will  tell  you  all." 

"  No,"  said  I,  alarmed  at  her  agitation ;  "  another  time." 

"  I  must,"  she  answered  more  calmly ;  "  it  has  burned  me 
enough.  You  recall  that  we  were  at  supper  together,  with 
Betty  Tayloe  and  Lord  Comyn,  and  how  merry  we  Avere,  altho' 
'twas  nothing  but  '  Dorothy '  with  you  gentlemen.  Then  you 
left  me.  Afterwards,  as  I  was  talking  with  Mr.  Singleton,  the 
rector  came  up.  I  never  have  liked  the  man,  Richard,  but  1 
little  knew  his  character.  He  began  by  twitting  me  for  a 
Whig,  and  presently  he  said:  'But  we  have  gained  one  con- 
vert. Miss  Swain,  who  sees  the  error  of  his  ways.  Scarce  a 
year  since  young  Richard  Carvel  promised  to  be  one  of  those 
with  whom  his  Majesty  will  have  to  reckon.  And  he  is  now 
become,'  —  faughing,  —  'the  King's  most  loyal  and  devoted.' 


156  EICHARD  CARVEL 

I  was  beside  myself.  '  That  is  no  subject  for  jest,  Mr.  Allen,' 
I  cried ;  '  I  Avill  never  believe  it  of  him  ! '  '  Jest ! '  said  he ;  'I 
give  you  my  word  I  was  never  soberer  in  my  life.'  Then  it 
all  came  to  me  of  a  sudden  that  you  sat  no  longer  by  the  hour 
with  my  father,  as  you  used,  and  you  denounced  the  King's 
measures  and  ministers  no  more.  My  father  had  spoken  of  it. 
^  Tell  me  why  he  has  changed  ? '  I  asked)  faltering  with  doubt 
of  you,  which  I  never  before  had  felt.  'Indeed,  1  know  not,' 
replied  the  rector,  with  his  most  cynical  smile ;  '  unless  it  is 
because  old  Mr.  Carvel  might  disinherit  a  Whig.  But  I  see 
you  doubt  my  word.  Miss  Swain.  Here  is  Mr.  Carroll,  and 
you  may  ask  him.'  God  forgive  me,  Richard !  I  stopped  Mr. 
Carroll,  who  seemed  mightily  surprised.  And  he  told  me  yes, 
that  your  grandfather  had  said  but  a  few  days  before,  and  with 
joy,  that  you  were  now  of  his  Majesty's  party." 

"  Alas !  I  might  have  foreseen  this  consequence,"  I  ex- 
claimed.    "Nor  do  I  blame  you,  Patty." 

"  But  my  father  has  explained  all,"  Patty  continued,  bright- 
ening. "  His  admiration  for  you  is  increased  tenfold,  Richard. 
Your  grandfather  told  him  of  the  rector's  treachery,  which  he 
says  is  sufficient  to  make  him  turn  Methodist  or  Lutheran. 
We  went  to  the  curate's  service  to-day.  And  —  will  you  hear 
more,  sir  ?  Or  do  your  ears  burn  ?  That  patriots  and  loyal- 
ists are  singing  your  praises  from  Town  Gate  to  the  dock,  and 
regretting  that  you  did  not  kill  that  detestable  Captain  Collin- 
son — but  I  have  something  else,  and  of  more  importance,  to 
tell  you,  Richard,"  she  continued,  lowering  her  voice. 

"  AVhat  Mr.  Carroll  had  told  me  stunned  me  like  a  blow,  such 
had  been  my  faith  in  you.  And  when  Mr.  Allen  moved  off,  I 
stood  talking  to  Percy  Singleton  and  his  Lordship  without 
understanding  a  word  of  the  conversation.  I  could  scarce 
have  been  in  my  right  mind.  It  was  not  your  going  over  to 
the  other  side  that  pained  me  so,  for  all  your  people  are  Tories. 
But  I  had  rather  seen  you  dead  than  a  pretender  and  a  hypo- 
crite, selling  yourself  for  an  inheritance.  Then  you  came. 
My  natural  impulse  should  have  been  to  draw  you  aside  and 
there  accuse  you.  But  this  was  beyond  my  strength.  And 
when  I  saw  you  go  away  without  a  word  I  knew  that  I  had 


SOME   THINGS  ARE  MADE   CLEAR  157 

been  uniust.  I  could  have  wept  before  them  all.  Mr.  Carroll 
went  for  tiis  coach,  and  was  a  full  half  an  hour  in  getting  it 
But  this  is  what  I  would  tell  you  in  particular,  Richard.  I 
have  not  spoken  of  it  to  a  soul,  and  it  troubles  ine  above  all 
else :  While  Maria  was  getting  my  cardinal  I  heard  voices  on 
the  other  side  of  the  dressing-room  door.  The  supper-room  is 
next,  you  know.  I  listened,  and  recognized  the  rector's  deep 
tones :  '  He  has  gone  to  the  Coffee  House,'  he  was  saying ; 
'Collinson  declares  that  his  Lordship  is  our  man,  if  we  can 
but  contrive  it.  He  is  the  best  foil  in  the  service,  and  was 
taught  by  '  —  there  !  I  have  forgot  the  name." 

"  Angelo !  "  I  cried. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Angelo  it  was.  How  did  you  know  ? "  she  de- 
manded, rising  in  her  excitement. 

"Angelo  is  the  great  fencing-master  of  London,"  I  replied. 

"  When  I  heard  that,"  she  said,  "  I  had  no  doubt  of  your 
innocence.  I  ran  out  into  the  assembly  room  as  I  was,  in 
my  hood,  and  tried  to  find  Tom.  But  he  — "  She  paused, 
ashamed. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  I  said  hurriedly  ;  "you  could  not  find  him." 

She  glanced  at  me  in  gratitude. 

"How  everybody  stared  at  me  !  But  little  I  cared  !  'Twas 
that  gave  rise  to  Mr.  Green's  report.  I  thought  of  Percy 
Singleton,  and  stopped  him  in  the  midst  of  a  dance  to  bid  him 
run  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry  him  to  the  Coffee  House, 
and  to  see  that  no  harm  befell  you.  'I  shall  hold  you  respon- 
sible for  Richard,'  I  whispered.  '  You  must  get  him  away  from 
Mr.  Claude's,  or  I  shall  never  speak  to  you  again.'  He  did  not 
wait  to  ask  questions,  but  Avent  at  once,  like  the  good  fellow 
he  is.  Then  I  rode  home  with  IMaria.  I  would  not  have 
Mr.  Carroll  come  with  me,  though  he  begged  hard.  Father 
was  in  here,  writing  his  brief.  But  I  was  all  in  pieces,  Rich- 
ard, and  so  shaken  Avitli  sobbing  that  I  could  tell  him  no  more 
than  that  you  had  gone  to  the  Coffee  House,  w^here  they  meant 
to  draw  you  into  a  duel.  He  took  me  up  to  ni}^  own  room,  and 
I  heard  him  going  out  to  wake  Limbo  to  harness,  and  at  last 
heard  him  driving  away  in  our  coach.  I  hope  I  may  never  in 
my  life  spend  such  another  hour  as  I  passed  then." 


158  RICHAED   CARVEL 

The  light  in  the  sky  had  gone  out.  I  looked  up  at  the  gin 
before  me  as  she  stood  gazing  into  the  flame,  her  features  in 
strong  relief,  her  lips  parted,  her  hair  red-gold,  and  the  rounded 
outlines  of  her  figure  softened.  I  wondered  why  I  had  never 
before  known  her  beauty.  Perchance  it  was  because,  until 
that  night,  I  had  never  seen  her  heart. 

I  leaped  to  my  feet  and  seized  her  hands.  For  a  second  she 
looked  at  me,  startled.  Then  she  tore  them  away  and  ran 
behind  the  dipping  chair  in  the  corner. 

'^  Richard,  Richard ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  Did  Dorothy  but 
know ! " 

"  Dorothy  is  occupied  with  titles,"  I  said. 

Patty's  lip  quivered.  And  I  knew,  blundering  fool  that  I 
was,  that  I  had  hurt  her. 

"Oh,  you  wrong  her!"  she  cried;  "believe  me  when  I  say 
that  she  loves  you,  and  you  only,  Richard." 

"  Loves  me !  "  I  retorted  bitterly,  —  brutally,  I  fear.  "  No. 
She  may  have  once,  long  ago.     But  now  her  head  is  turned." 

"  She  loves  you  now,"  answered  Patty,  earnestly ;  "  and  I 
think  ever  will,  if  you  but  deserve  her." 

And  with  that  she  went  away,  leaving  me  to  stare  after  hei 
in  perplexity  and  consternation. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

SOUTH    RIVER 

My  grandfather's  defection  from  St.  Anne's  called  forth  a 
deal  of  comment  in  Annapolis.  His  Excellency  came  to  re- 
monstrate, but  to  no  avail,  and  Mr.  Carvel  denounced  the 
rector  in  such  terms  that  the  Governor  was  glad  to  turn  the 
subject.  My  Uncle  Grafton  acted  with  such  quickness  and 
force  as  would  have  served  to  lull  the  sharpest  suspicions. 
He  forbid  the  rector  his  house,  attended  the  curate's  service, 
and  took  Philip  from  his  care.  It  was  decided  that  both  my 
cousin  and  I  Avere  to  go  to  King's  College  after  Christmas. 
Grafton's  conduct  greatly  pleased  my  grandfather.  "  He  has 
behaved  very  loyally  in  this  matter,  Richard,"  he  said  to  me. 
*'I  grow  to  reproach  myself  more  every  day  for  the  injustice  I 
once  did  him.  He  is  heaping  coals  of  fire  upon  my  old  head. 
But,  faith  !  I  cannot  stomach  your  Aunt  Caroline.  You  do  not 
seem  to  like  your  uncle,  lad." 

I  answered  that  I  did  not. 

"  It  was  ever  the  Carvel  way  not  to  forget,"  he  went  on. 
"Nevertheless,  Grafton  hath  your  welfare  at  heart,  I  think. 
His  affection  for  you  as  his  brother's  son  is  great." 

0  that  I  had  spoken  the  words  that  burned  my  tongue ! 

Christmas  fell  upon  Monday  of  that  year,  1769.  There  was 
to  be  a  ball  at  Upper  Marlboro'  on  the  Friday  before,  to  which 
many  of  us  were  invited.  Though  the  morning  came  in  with 
a  blinding  snowstorm  from  the  north,  the  first  of  that  winter, 
about  ten  of  the  clock  we  set  out  from  Annapolis  an  exceeding 
merry  party,  the  ladies  in  four  coaches-and-six,  the  gentlemen 
and  their  servants  riding  at  the  wheels.  We  laughed  and  joked 
despite  the  storm,  and  exchanged  signals  with  the  fair  ones 
behind  the  glasses. 

159 


160  EICHAED   CARVEL 

But  we  had  scarce  got  two  miles  beyond  the  town  gate  when 
a  messenger  overtook  us  with  a  note  for  Mr.  Carvel,  writ  upon 
an  odd  slip  of  paper,  and  with  great  apparent  hurry :  — 

"Honoured  Sib, 

''  I  have  but  just  come  to  Annapolis  from  New  York,  with 
Instructions  to  put  into  your  Hands,  &  no  Others,  a  Message 
of  the  greatest  Import.  Hearing  you  are  but  now  set  out  for 
Upper  Marlboro  I  beg  of  you  to  return  for  half  an  Hour  to 
the  Coffee  House.  By  so  doing  you  will  be  of  service  to  a 
Friend,  and  confer  a  Favour  upon  y'r  most  ob'd't  Humble 
Servant, 

"  Silas  Ridgeway." 

Our  cavalcade  had  halted  while  I  read,  the  ladies  letting 
down  the  glasses  and  leaning  out  in  their  concei-n  lest  some 
trouble  had  befallen  me  or  my  grandfather.  I  answered  them 
and  bade  them  ride  on,  vowing  that  I  would  overtake  the 
coaches  before  they  reached  the  Patuxent.  Then  I  turned 
Cynthia's  head  for  town,  with  Hugo  at  my  heels. 

Patty,  leaning  from  the  window  of  the  last  coach,  called  out 
to  me  as  I  passed.  I  waved  my  hand  in  return,  and  did  not 
remember  until  long  after  the  anxiety  in  her  eyes. 

As  I  rode,  and  I  rode  hard,  I  pondered  over  the  words  of 
this  letter.  I  knew  not  this  Mr.  Ridgeway  from  the  Lord 
Mayor  of  London ;  but  I  came  to  the  conclusion  before  I  had 
repassed  the  gate  that  his  message  was  fi-om  Captain  Daniel. 
And  I  greatly  feared  that  some  evil  had  befallen  my  good 
friend.  So  I  came  to  the  Coffee  House,  and  throwing  my 
bridle  to  Hugo,  I  ran  in. 

I  found  Mr.  Ridgeway  neither  in  the  long  room  nor  in  the 
billiard  room  nor  the  bar.  Mr.  Claude  told  me  that  indeed  a 
man  had  arrived  that  morning  from  the  North,  a  spare  person 
with  a  hooked  nose  and  scant  hair,  in  a  brown  greatcoat  with 
a  torn  cape.  He  had  gone  forth  afoot  half  an  hour  since. 
His  messenger,  a  negro  lad  whose  face  I  knew,  was  in  the 
stables  with  Hugo.  He  had  never  seen  the  stranger  till  he 
met  him  that  morning  in  State  House  Circle  inquiring  for  Mr. 


SOUTH   RIVER  161 

Carvel,  and  had  been  given  a  shilling  to  gallop  after  me.  Im 
patient  as  I  was  to  be  gone,  I  sat  me  down  in  the  coffee  room, 
thinking  every  minute  the  man  must  return,  and  strongly 
apprehensive  that  Captain  Daniel  must  be  in  some  grave  pre- 
dicament. That  the  favour  he  asked  was  of  such  a  nature  as 
I,  and  not  my  grandfather,  cotdd  best  fulfil. 

At  length,  about  a  quarter  after  noon,  my  man  comes  in  v/ith 
Mr.  Claude  close  behind  him.  I  liked  his  looks  less  than  his 
description,  and  the  moment  I  clapped  eyes  on  him  I  knew 
that  Captain  Daniel  had  never  chose  such  a  messenger. 

<'This  is  Mr.  Richard  Carvel,"  said  Mr.  Claude. 

The  fellow  made  me  a  low  bow,  which  I  scarcely  re- 
turned. 

"I  am  sure,  sir,"  he  began  in  a  whining  voice,  "that  I  crave 
your  forbearance  for  this  prodigious,  stupid  mistake  I  have 
made." 

"  Mistake !  "  I  exclaimed  hotly ;  "  you  mean  to  say,  sir,  that 
you  have  brought  me  back  for  nothing  ?  " 

The  man's  eye  shifted,  and  he  made  me  another  bow. 

"  I  scarce  know  what  to  say,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  answered  with 
much  humility;  "to  speak  truth,  'twas  zeal  to  my  employers, 
and  methought  to  you,  that  caused  you  to  retrace  your  steps  in 
this  pestiferous  storm.  I  travel,"  he  proceeded  with  some  im- 
portance, "  I  travel  for  Messrs.  Rinnell  and  Runn,  Barristers  of 
the  town  of  New  York,  and  carry  letters  to  men  of  mark  all 
over  these  middle  and  southern  colonies.  And  my  instructions, 
sir,  were  to  come  to  Annapolis  with  all  reasonable  speed  with 
this  double-sealed  enclosure  for  Mr.  Carvel :  and  to  deliver  it 
to  him,  and  him  only,  the  very  moment  I  arrived.  As  I 
came  through  your  town  I  made  inquiries,  and  was  told  b_v 
a  black  fellow  in  the  Circle  that  Mr.  Carvel  was  but  just  left 
for  Upper  Marlboro'  with  a  cavalcade  of  four  coaches-and-six 
and  some  dozen  gentlemen  with  their  servants.  I  am  sure  my 
mistake  was  pardonable,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  concluded  with  a 
smirk ;  "  this  gentleman  was  plainly  of  the  first  qualitj^,  as 
was  he  to  whom  I  was  directed.  And  as  he  was  about  to  leave 
town  for  I  knew  not  how  long,  I  hope  I  was  in  the  right  in 
bidding  the  black  ride  after  him,  for  I  give  you  my  word  the 

M 


162  RICHARD   CARVEL 

business  was  most  pressing  for  him.  I  crave  your  forgiveness, 
and  the  pleasure  of  drinking  your  honour's  health." 

I  barely  heard  the  fellow  through,  and  was  turning  on  my 
heel  in  disgust,  when  it  struck  me  to  ask  him  what  Mr.  Carvel 
he  sought,  for  I  feared  lest  my  grandfather  had  got  into  some 
lawsuit. 

"  And  it  please  your  honour,  Mr.  Grafton  Carvel,"  said  he ; 
"  your  uncle,  I  understand.  Unfortunately  he  has  gone  to  his 
estate  in  Kent  County,  whither  I  must  now  follow  him." 

I  bade  Mr.  Claude  summon  my  servant,  not  stopping  to 
question  the  man  further,  such  was  my  resentment  against 
him.  And  in  ten  minutes  we  were  out  of  the  town  again,  gal- 
loping between  the  nearly  filled  tracks  of  the  coaches,  now 
three  hours  ahead  of  us.  The  storm  was  increasing,  and  the 
wind  cutting,  but  I  dug  into  Cynthia  so  that  poor  Hugo  was 
put  to  it  to  hold  the  pace,  and,  tho'  he  had  a  pint  of  rum  in 
him,  was  near  perished  with  the  cold.  As  my  anger  cooled 
somewhat  I  began  to  wonder  how  Mr.  Silas  Ridgeway,  who- 
ever he  was,  could  have  been  such  a  simpleton  as  his  story 
made  him  out.  Indeed,  he  looked  more  the  rogue  than  the  ass ; 
nor  could  I  conceive  how  reliable  barristers  could  hire  such  a 
one.  I  wished  heartily  that  I  had  exhausted  him  further,  and 
a  suspicion  crossed  my  brain  that  he  might  have  come  to  Mr. 
Allen,  who  had  persuaded  him  to  deliver  a  letter  to  Grafton 
intended  for  m.e.  Some  foreboding  beset  me,  and  I  was  once 
close  to  a  full  mind  for  going  back,  and  slacked  Cynthia's  pace 
to  a  trot.  But  the  thought  of  the  pleasures  at  Upper  Marl- 
boro' and  the  hope  of  overtaking  the  party  at  Mr.  Dorsey's 
place,  over  the  Patuxent,  where  they  looked  to  dine,  decided 
me  in  pushing  on.  And  thus  we  came  to  South  River,  with  the 
snow  so  thick  that  we  could  scarce  see  ten  yards  in  front 
of  us. 

Beyond,  the  road  winds  up  the  hill  around  the  end  of  Mr. 
Wiley's  plantation  and  plunges  shortly  into  the  woods,  gray 
and  cold  indeed  to-day.  At  their  skirt  a  trail  branches  off 
which  leads  to  Mr.  Wiley's  warehouses,  on  the  water's  edge  a 
mile  or  so  below.  And  I  marked  that  this  path  was  freshly 
trodden.     I  recall  a  small  shock  of  surprise  at  this,  for  the  way 


SOUTH   RIVER  163 

was  used  only  in  the  early  autumn  to  connect  with  some  fields 
beyond  the  hill.  And  then  I  heard  a  sharp  cry  from  Hugo  and 
pulled  Cynthia  short.     He  was  some  ten  paces  behind  me. 

"  Marse  Dick ! "  he  shouted,  the  whites  of  his  eyes  rolled  up. 
"  We'se  gwine  to  be  robbed,  Marse  Dick."  And  he  pointed  to 
the  footprints  in  the  snow ;  "  somefin  done  tole  Hugo  not  come 
to-day." 

"  Nonsense ! "  I  cried;  ''Mr.  Wiley  is  making  his  lazy  beggars 
cut  wood  against  Christmas." 

When  in  this  temper  the  poor  fellow  had  more  fear  of  me 
than  of  aught  else,  and  he  closed  up  to  my  horse's  flank,  glanc- 
ing apprehensively  to  the  right  and  left,  his  teeth  rattling. 
We  went  at  a  brisk  trot.  We  know  not,  indeed,  how  to  account 
for  many  things  in  this  world,  for  with  each  beat  of  Cynthia's 
feet  I  found  myself  repeating  the  words  South  River  and  Marl- 
boro', and  seeking  in  my  mind  a  connection  to  something  gone 
before.  Then,  like  a  sudden  gust  of  wind,  comes  to  me  that 
strange  talk  between  Grafton  and  the  rector,  overheard  by  old 
Harvey  in  the  stables  at  Carvel  Hall.  And  Cynthia's  ears 
were  pointing  forward. 

With  a  quick  impulse  I  loosed  the  lower  frogs  of  my  coat, 
for  my  sword  was  buckled  beneath,  and  was  reaching  for  one 
of  the  brace  of  pistols  in  my  saddle-bags.  I  had  but  released 
them  when  Hugo  cried  out :  "  Gawd,  Marse  Dick,  run  for  yo' 
life ! "  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  flying  down  the  road.  As 
I  turned  a  shot  rang  out,  Cynthia  reared  high  with  a  rough  brute 
of  a  fellow  clinging  to  her  bridle.  I  sent  my  charge  full  into 
his  chest,  and  as  he  tumbled  in  the  snow  I  dug  my  spurs  to 
the  rowels. 

What  happened  then  is  still  a  blurred  picture  in  my  brain. 
I  know  that  Cynthia  was  shot  from  under  me  before  she  had 
taken  her  leap,  and  we  fell  heavily  together.  And  I  was 
scarcely  up  again  and  my  sword  drawn,  when  the  villains  were 
pressing  me  from  all  sides.  I  remember  spitting  but  one,  and 
then  I  heard  a  great  seafaring  oath,  the  first  word  out  of  their 
mouths,  and  I  was  felled  from  behind  with  a  mighty  blow. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE    "black    moll" 

I  HAVE  no  intention,  my  dears,  of  dwelling  upon  that  part  of 
my  adventures  which  must  be  as  painful  to  you  as  to  me,  the 
very  recollection  of  which,  after  all  these  years,  suffices  to 
cause  the  blood  within  me  to  run  cold.  In  my  youth  men 
whose  natures  shrank  not  from  encounter  with  their  enemies 
lacked  not,  I  warrant  you,  a  checkered  experience.  Those  of 
us  who  are  wound  the  tightest  go  the  farthest  and  strike  the 
hardest.  Nor  is  it  difficult  for  one,  the  last  of  wdiose  life  is 
being  recorded,  to  review  the  outspread  roll  of  it,  and  trace  the 
unerring  forces  which  have  drawn  for  themselves. 

Some,  indeed,  traverse  this  world  weighing,  before  they  par- 
take, pleasure  and  business  alike.  But  I  am  not  sure,  my 
children,  that  they  better  themselves ;  or  that  God,  in  His 
all-wise  judgment,  prefers  them  to  such  as  are  guided  by  the 
divine  impulse  with  which  He  has  endowed  them.  Far  be  it 
from  me  to  advise  rashness  or  imprudence,  as  such ;  nor  do  I 
believe  you  will  take  me  so.  But  I  say  unto  you :  do  that 
which  is  right,  and  let  God,  not  man,  be  your  interpreter. 

My  narrative  awaits  me. 

I  came  to  my  wits  with  an  immoderate  feeling  of  faintness 
and  sickness,  with  no  more  remembrance  of  things  past  than 
has  a  man  bereft  of  reason.  And  for  some  time  I  swung 
between  sense  and  oblivion  before  an  overpowering  stench 
forced  itself  upon  my  nostrils,  accompanied  by  a  creaking, 
straining  sound  and  sweeping  motion.  I  could  see  nothing 
for  the  pitchy  blackness.  Then  I  recalled  what  had  befallen 
me,  and  cried  aloud  to  God  in  my  anguish,  for  I  well  knew 

164 


THE   ''BLACK  MOLL"  165 

I  had  been  carried  aboard  ship,  and  was  at  sea.  I  had  often- 
times heard  of  the  rfotorious  press-gang  which  supplied  the 
need  of  the  King's  navy,  and  my  first  thought  was  that  I  had 
fallen  in  their  clutches.  But  I  wondered  that  they  had  dared 
attack  a  person  of  my  consequence. 

•I  had  no  pain.  I  lay  in  a  bunk  that  felt  gritty  and  greasy 
to  the  touch,  and  my  hair  was  matted  behind  by  a  clot  of 
blood.  I  had  been  stripped  of  my  clothes,  and  put  into  some 
coarse  and  rough  material,  the  colour  and  condition  of  which  I 
could  not  see  for  want  of  light.  I  began  to  cast  about  me,  to 
examine  the  size  of  the  bunk,  which  I  found  to  be  narrow,  and 
plainly  at  some  distance  from  the  deck,  for  I  laid  hold  upon 
one  of  the  rough  beams  above  me.  By  its  curvature  I  knew 
it  to  be  a  knee,  and  thus  I  came  to  the  caulked  sides  of  the 
vessel,  and  for  the  first  time  heard  the  rattling  thud  and  swish 
of  water  on  the  far  side  of  it.  I  had  no  sooner  made  this  dis- 
covery, which  drew  from  me  an  involuntary  groan,  when  a 
ship's  lanthorn  was  of  a  sudden  thrust  over  me,  and  I  perceived 
behind  it  a  head  covered  with  shaggy  hair  and  beard,  and 
beetling  brows.  Never  had  I  been  in  such  a  terrifying 
presence. 

"  Damn  my  blood  and  bones,  life  signals  at  last !  Another 
three  bells  gone,  my  silks  and  laces,  and  we  had  given  you  to 
the  sharks." 

The  man  hung  his  lanthorn  to  a  hook  on  the  beam,  and  thrust 
a  case-bottle  of  rum  toward  me,  at  the  same  time  biting  off  a 
great  quid  of  tobacco.  For  all  my  alarm  I  saw  that  his  manner 
was  not  unkindly,  and  as  I  was  conscious  of  a  consuming  thirst 
I  seized  and  tipped  it  eagerly. 

'^  'Tis  no  fine  Madeira,  my  blood,"  said  he,  "  such  as  I  fancy 
your  palate  is  acquainted  with.  Yet  'tis  as  fair  a  Jamaica  as 
ever  Griggs  put  ashore  i'  the  dark." 

"  Griggs  !  "  I  cried,  the  whole  affair  coming  to  me :  Griggs, 
Upper  Marlboro'',  South  River,  Grafton  and  the  rector  plotting 
in  the  stalls,  and  Mr.  Silas  Ridgeway  the  accomplice. 

"  Ay,  Griggs,"  replied  he ;  "  ye  may  well  repeat  it,  the . 

I'll  lay  a  puncheon  he'll   be   hailing  you  shortly.      Guinea 
Griggs,  Gold-Coast  Griggs,  Smuggler  Griggs,  Skull-and-Bones 


166  EICHAED   CAEVEL 

Griggs.  Damn  his  soul  and  eyes,  lie  liath  sent  to  damnation 
many  a  ship's  company." 

He  drained  what  remained  of  the  bottle,  took  down  the  Ian- 
thorn,  and  left  me  sufficiently  terrified  to  reflect  upon  my  situa- 
tion, which  I  found  desperate  enougli,  my  dears.  I  have  no 
words  to  describe  what  I  went  through  in  that  vile,  foul-smelliilg 
place.  My  tears  flowed  fast  when  I  thought  of  my  grandfather 
and  of  the  dear  friends  I  had  left  behind,  and  of  Dorothy,  v/hom 
I  never  hoped  to  see  again.  And  then,  perchance  'twas  the 
rum  put  heart  into  me,  I  vowed  I  would  face  the  matter : 
show  this  cut-throat  of  a  Griggs  a  bold  front.  Had  he  meant 
to  murder  me,  I  reflected,  he  had  done  the  business  long  since. 
Then  I  fell  asleep. 

I  awoke,  I  know  not  how  soon,  to  discover  the  same  shaggy 
countenance,  and  the  lanthorn. 

"  Canst  walk,  Mechlin  ?  "  says  he. 

"  I  can  try,  at  least,"  I  answered. 

He  seemed  pleased  at  this. 

"  You  have  courage  a-plenty,  and,  by  G — ,  you  will  have 

need  of  it  all  with  that of  a  Griggs  ! "     He  gave  me  his 

bottle  again,  and  assisted  me  down,  and  I  found  that  my  legs, 
save  for  the  rocking  of  the  ship,  were  steady  enough.  I  fol- 
lowed him  out  of  the  hole  in  which  I  had  lain  on  to  a  deck, 
which,  in  the  half  light,  I  saw  covered  with  slush  and  filth. 
It  was  small,  and  but  dimly  illuminated  by  a  hatchway,  up 
the  which  I  pushed  after  him,  and  then  another.  And  so  we 
came  to  the  light  of  day,  which  near  blinded  me :  so  that  I 
was  fain  to  clap  my  hand  to  mine  eyes,  and  stood  for  a  space 
looking  about  me  like  a  man  dazed.  The  wind,  tho'  blowing 
stiff,  was  mild,  and  league  after  league  of  the  green  sea  danced 
and  foamed  in  the  morning  sunlight,  and  I  perceived  that  I  was 
on  a  large  schooner  under  full  sail,  the  crew  of  which  were  lit- 
tered about  at  different  occupations.  Some  gaming  and  some 
drinking,  while  on  the  forecastle  two  men  were  settling  a  dispute 
at  fisticuffs.  And  they  gave  me  no  more  notice,  nor  as  much, 
than  I  had  been  a  baboon  thrust  among  them.  From  this  in- 
difference to  a  captive  I  augured  no  good.  Then  my  con- 
ductor, whom  I  rightly  judged  to  be  the  mate  of  this  devil's 


THE   "BLACK  MOLL"  167 

crew,  took  me  roughly  by  the  shoulder  and  bade  me  accom 
pany  him  to  the  cabin. 

As  we  drew  near  the  topgallant  poop  there  sounded  in  my 
ears  a  noise  like  a  tempest,  which  I  soon  became  aware  was  a 
man  swearing  with  a  prodigious  vehemence  in  a  fog-horn  of  a 
voice.  "'Sdeath  and  wounds!  Where  is  that  dog-fish  of 
a  Cockle  ?  Damn  his  entrails,  and  he  is  not  come  soon,  I'll 
mast-head  him  naked,  by  the  seven  holy  spritsails!"  And 
much  more  and  worse  to  the  same  tune  until  we  passed  the 
door  and  stood  before  him,  when  he  let  out  an  oath  like  the 
death-cry  of  a  monster. 

He  was  a  short,  lean  man  with  a  leathery  face  and  long,  black 
ropy  hair,  and  beady  black  eyes  that  caught  the  light  like  a 
cat's.  His  looks,  indeed,  would  have  scared  a  timid  person  into 
a  fit;  but  I  resolved  I  would  die  rather  than  show  the  fear  with 
which  he  inspired  me.  He  was  dressed  in  an  old  navy  uniform 
with  dirty  lace.  His  cabin  was  bare  enough,  being  scattered 
about  with  pistols  and  muskets  and  cutlasses,  with  a  ragged 
pallet  in  one  corner,  and  he  sat  behind  an  oaken  table  covered 
with  greasy  charts  and  spilled  liquor  and  tobacco. 

"  So  ho,  you  are  risen  from  the  dead,  are  you,  my  fine  buck  ? 
Mr.  What-do-they-call-you  ?  "  cried  the  captain,  with  a  word  as 
loul  as  any  he  had  yet  uttered.  "  By  the  Lord,  you  shall  pay 
for  running  my  bo'sun  through ! " 

"And  by  the  Lord,  Captain  What's-your-name,"  I  cried  back, 
for  the  rum  I  had  taken  had  heated  me,  "you  and  your  fellow- 
rascals  shall  pay  in  blood  for  this  villanous  injury  !" 

Griggs  got  to  his  feet  and  seized  his  hanger,  his  face  like  livid 
marble  seamed  with  blue.  And  from  force  of  habit  I  made 
motion  for  my  sword,  to  make  the  shameful  discovery  that  I 
was  clothed  from  head  to  foot  in  linsey-woolsey. 

"G —  d —  my  soul,"  he  roared,  "if  I  don't  slit  you  like  a  her- 
ring! The  devil  burn  me  to  a  cinder  if  I  don't  give  your  guts  to 
the  sharks ! "  And  he  made  at  me  in  such  a  fury  that  I  would 
certainly  have  been  cut  to  pieces  had  I  not  grasped  a  cutlass 
and  parried  his  blow,  Cockle  looking  on  with  his  jaw  dropped 
like  a  peak  without  haulyards.  With  a  stroke  of  my  weapon 
I   disarmed    Captain   Griggs,   his    sword  flying  through   the 


168  RICHARD   CARVEL 

cabin  window.  For  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would  better  die 
fighting  than  expire  at  a  hideous  torture,  which  I  doubted  not 
he  would  inflict,  and  so  I  took  up  a  posture  of  defence,  with 
one  eye  on  the  mate;  despite  the  kind  offices  of  the  latter  be- 
low I  knew  not  whether  he  were  disposed  to  befriend  me  before 
the  captain.  What  was  my  astonishment,  therefore,  to  behold 
Griggs's  truculent  manner  change. 

"Avast,  my  man-o-war,"  he  cried;  "blood  and  wounds!  1 
had  more  than  an  eye  when  they  brought  thee  aboard,  else  I 
would  have  killed  thee  like  a  sucking-pig  under  the  forecastle, 
as  I  have  given  oath  to  do.  By  the  Ghost,  you  are  worth  seven 
of  that  Roger  Spratt  whom  you  sent  to  hell  in  his  boots." 

Wherewith  Cockle,  who  for  all  his  terrible  appearance  stood 
in  a  mighty  awe  of  his  captain,  set  up  a  loud  laugh,  and  voAved 
that  Griggs  knew  a  man  when  he  spared  me,  and  was  cursed 
for  his  pains. 

"  So  you  were  contracted  to  murder  me.  Captain  Griggs  ?  " 
said  I. 

"Ay,"  he  replied,  a  devilish  gleam  coming  into  his  eye,  "but 
I  have  now  got  you  and  the  money  to  boot.  But  harkye,  I'll 
stand  by  my  half  of  the  bargain,  by  G — .  If  ever  you  reach 
Maryland  alive,  they  may  hang  me  to  the  yardarm  of  a  ship- 
of-the-line." 

And  I  live  long  enough,  my  dears,  I  hope  some  day  to  write 
for  you  the  account  of  all  that  befell  me  on  this  slaver,  Black 
Moll,  for  so  she  was  called.  'Twould  but  delay  my  story  now. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  we  sailed  for  a  fortnight  or  so  in  the  West 
India  seas.  From  some  observations  that  fell  from  the  mouth 
of  Griggs  I  gathered  that  he  was  s'earching  for  an  island  which 
evaded  him ;  and  each  day  added  to  his  vexation  at  not  finding 
it.  At  times  he  was  drunk  for  forty  hours  at  a  stretch,  when 
he  would  shut  himself  in  his  cabin  and  leave  his  ship  to  the 
care  of  Cockle,  who  navigated  with  the  sober  poi-tion  of  the 
crew.  And  such  a  lousy,  brawling  lot  of  convicts  I  had  never 
clapped  eyes  upon.  As  for  me,  I  was  treated  indifferently 
well,  though  'twas  in  truth  punishment  enough  to  live  in  that 
filthy  ship,  to  eat  their  shins  of  beef  and  briny  pork  and  wormy 


THE   "BLACK   MOLL"  169 

biscuit,  to  wear  rough  clothes  that  chafed  my  skin.  I  shared 
Cockle's  cabin,  in  every  way  as  dirty  a  place  as  the  den  I  had 
left,  but  with  the  advantage  of  air,  for  which-  I  fervently 
thanked  God. 

I  think  the  mate  had  some  little  friendship  for  me,  though 
he  was  too  hardened  by  the  life  he  had  led  to  care  a  deal  what 
became  of  me.  He  encouraged  me  secretly  to  continue  to 
beard  Griggs  as  I  had  begun,  saying  that  it  was  my  sole  chance 
of  a  whole  skin,  and  vowing  that  if  he  had  had  the  courage  to 
pursue  the  same  course  his  own  back  had  not  been  checkered 
like  a  grating.  He  told  me  stories  of  the  captain's  cruelty 
which  I  dare  not  repeat  for  their  very  horror,  and  indeed  I 
lacked  not  for  instances  to  substantiate  what  he  said ;  men 
with  their  backs  beaten  to  a  pulp,  and  others  with  ears  cut  off, 
and  mouths  slit,  and  toes  missing.  So  that  I  lived  in  hourly 
fear  lest  in  some  drunkeh  fit  Griggs  might  command  me  to  be 
tortured.  But,  fortunately,  he  held  small  converse  with  me, 
and  when  sober  busied  himself  in  trying  to  find  the  island  and 
m  cursing  the  fate  by  which  it  eluded  him. 

So  I  existed,  and  prayed  daily  for  deliverance.  I  plied 
Cockle  with  questions  as  to  what  they  purposed  doing  with 
me,  but  he  was  wont  to  turn  sulky,  and  would  answer  me  not 
a  word.  But  once,  when  he  was  deeper  in  his  cups  than  com- 
mon, he  let  me  know  that  Griggs  was  to  sell  me  to  a  certain 
planter.  You  may  well  believe  that  this  did  not  serve  to  liven 
my  spirits. 

At  length,  one  morning,  Captain  Griggs  came  out  of  his 
cabin  and  climbed  upon  the  poop,  calling  all  hands  aft  to  the 
quarterdeck.  Whereupon  he  proceeded  to  make  them  a  speech 
that  for  vileness  exceeded  aught  I  have  ever  heard  before  or 
since.  He  finished  by  reminding  them  that  this  was  the  anni- 
versary of  the  scuttling  of  the  sloop  Jayie,  which  had  made 
them  all  rich  a  year  before,  off  the  Canaries ;  the  day  that  he 
had  sent  three  and  twenty  men  over  the  plank  to  hell.  Where- 
fore he  decreed  a  holiday,  as  the  weather  was  bright  and  the 
trades  light,  and  would  serve  quadruple  portions  of  rum  to 
every  man  jack  aboard ;  and  they  set  up  a  cheer  that  started 
the  Mother  Careys  astern. 


170  RICHARD   CARVEL 

I  have  no  language  to  depict  the  bestiality  of  that  day ;  and 
if  I  had  I  would  think  it  sin  to  write  of  it.  The  helm  was 
lashed  on  the  port  tack,  the  haulyards  set  taut,  and  all  hands 
down  to  the  lad  who  was  the  cook's  scullion  proceeded  to  get 
drunk.  I  took  the  precaution  to  have  a  hanger  at  my  side  and 
to  slip  one  of  Cockle's  pistols  within  the  band  of  my  breeches. 
I  was  in  an  exquisite  agony  of  indecision  as  to  what  manner 
to  act  and  how  to  defend  myself  from  their  drunken  brutality, 
for  I  well  knew  that  if  I  refused  to  imbibe  with  them  I  should 
probably  be  murdered  for  my  abstemiousness;  and,  if  I  drank, 
the  stuff  was  so  near  to  alcohol  that  I  could  not  hope  to  keep 
my  senses.  While  in  this  predicament  I  received  a  polite 
invitation  to  partake  in  the  captain's  company,  which  I  did 
not  see  my  way  clear  to  refuse,  and  repaired  to  the  cabin 
accordingly. 

There  I  found  Griggs  and  Cockle  seated,  and  a  fair-sized 
barrel  of  rum  between  them  that  the  captain  had  just  moved 
thither.  By  way  of  welcome  he  shot  at  me  a  volley  of  curses 
and  bade  me  to  fill  up,  and  through  fear  of  offending  him  I 
took  down  my  first  mug  with  a  fair  good  grace.  Then,  in  his 
own  particular  language,  he  began  the  account  of  the  capture 
of  the  Jane,  taking  care  in  the  pauses  to  see  that  my  mug  was 
full.  But,  as  luck  would  have  it,  he  got  no  farther  than  the 
boarding  by  the  Black  3IolVs  crew,  when  he  fell  to  squabbling 
with  Cockle  as  to  who  had  been  the  first  man  over  the  side ; 
and  while  they  were  settling  this  difference  I  grasped  the 
opportunity  to  escape. 

The  maudlin  scene  that  met  my  eyes  on  deck  defies  descrip 
tion;  some  were  fighting,  others  grinning  with  a  hideous  laugh- 
ter, and  still  others  shouting  tavern  jokes  unspeakable.  And 
suddenly,  whilst  I  was  observing  these  things  from  a  niche 
behind  the  cabin  door,  I  heard  the  captain  cry  from  within, 
"  The  ensign,  the  ensign ! "  Forgetting  his  dispute  with  Cockle, 
he  bumped  past  me  and  made  his  way  with  some  trouble  to 
the  poop.  I  climbed  the  ladder  after  him,  and  to  my  horror 
beheld  him  in  a  drunken  frenzy  drag  a  black  fiag  with  a  rudely 
painted  skull  and  cross-bones  from  the  signal-chest,  and  with 
uncertain  fingers  toggle  it  to  the  ensign  haulyards  and  hoist  to 


THE   "BLACK  MOLL"  173 

the  peak,  where  it  fluttered  grimly  in  the  light  wind  like  an 
evil  augur  on  a  fair  day.  At  sight  of  it  the  wretches  on  deck 
fell  to  shouting  and  huzzaing,  Griggs  standing  leering  up  at  it. 
Then  he  gravely  pulled  off  his  hat  and  made  it  a  bow,  and 
turned  upon  me. 

"Salute  it,  ye  lubberly !     Ye  are  no  first-rate  here,"  he 

thundered.     "  Salute  the  flag !  " 

Unless  fear  had  kept  me  sober,  'tis  past  my  understanding 
why  I  was  not  as  drunk  as  he.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  was  near 
as  quarrelsome,  and  would  as  soon  have  worshipped  the  golden 
calf  as  saluted  that  rag.  I  flung  back  some  reply,  and  he 
lugged  out  and  came  at  me  with  a  spring  like  a  wild  beast ; 
and  his  men  below,  seeing  us  fall  out,  made  a  rush  for  the 
poop  with  knives  and  cutlasses  drawn.  Betwixt  them  all  I 
should  soon  have  been  in  slivers  had  not  the  main  shrouds  of- 
fered themselves  handy.  And  up  them  I  sprung,  the  captain 
cutting  at  my  legs  as  I  left  the  sheer-pole,  and  I  stopped  not 
until  I  reached  the  schooner'-s  cross-trees,  where  I  drew  my  cut- 
lass. They  pranced  around  the  mast  and  showered  me  with 
oaths,  for  all  the  world  like  a  lot  of  howling  dogs  which  had 
treed  a  cat. 

I  began  to  feel  somewhat  easier,  and  cried  aloud  that  the 
first  of  them  who  came  up  after  me  would  go  down  again  in  two 
pieces.  Despite  my  warning  a  brace  essayed  to  climb  the  rat- 
lines, as  pitiable  an  attempt  as  ever  I  witnessed,  and  fell  to  the 
deck  again.  'Twas  a  miracle  that  they  missed  falling  into  the 
sea.  And  after  a  while,  becoming  convinced  that  they  could 
not  get  at  me,  and  being  too  far  gone  to  shoot  with  any  accu- 
racy, they  tumbled  off  the  poop  swearing  to  serve  me  in  a  hun- 
dred horrible  ways  when  they  caught  me,  and  fell  again  to 
drinking  and  quarrelling  amongst  themselves.  I  was  indeed  in 
an  unenviable  plight,  by  no  means  sure  that  I  would  not  be 
slain  out  of  hand  when  they  became  sufiiciently  sober  to  cap- 
ture me.  As  I  marked  the  progress  of  their  damnable  orgy  I 
cast  about  for  some  plan  to  take  advantage  of  their  condition. 
I  observed  that  a  stupor  was  already  beginning  to  overcome 
a  few  of  them.  Then  suddenly  an  incident  happened  to  drive 
all  else  from  my  mind. 


172  KICHARD   CARVEL 

Nothing  less,  my  dears,  than  a  white  speck  of  sail  gleaming 
on  the  southern  horizon ! 

For  an  hour  I  watched  it,  now  in  a  shiver  of  apprehension 
lest  it  pass  us  by,  now  weeping  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy  over  a  pos- 
sible deliverance.  But  it  grew  steadily  larger,  and  when  about 
three  miles  on  our  port  bow  I  saw  that  the  ship  was  a  brigan- 
tine.  Though  she  had  long  been  in  sight  from  our  deck,  'twas 
not  until  now  that  she  was  made  out  by  a  man  on  the  forecastle, 
who  set  up  a  cry  that  brought  about  him  all  who  could  reel 
thither,  Griggs  staggering  out  of  his  cabin  and  to  the  nettings. 
The  sight  sobered  him  somewhat,  for  he  immediately  shouted 
orders  to  cast  loose  the  guns,  himself  tearing  the  breeching 
from  the  nine-pounder  next  him  and  taking  out  the  tompion. 
About  half  the  crew  were  in  a  liquorish  stupor  from  which 
the  trump  itself  could  scarce  have  aroused  them ;  the  rest 
responded  with  savage  oaths,  swore  that  they  would  boil  their 
suppers  in  the  blood  of  the  brigantine's  men  and  give  their 
corpses  to  the  sea.  They  fell  to  ■  work  on  the  port  battery  in 
so  ludicrous  a  manner  that  I  was  fain  to  laugh  despite  the 
gravity  of  the  situation.  But  when  they  came  to  rig  the 
powder-hoist  and  a  couple  of  them  descended  into  the  maga- 
zine with  pipes  lighted,  I  was  in  imminent  expectation  of  be- 
ing blown  as  high  as  a  kite. 

So  absorbed  had  I  been  in  these  preparations  that  I  neg- 
lected to  watch  the  bvigantine,  which  I  discovered  to  be  stand- 
ing on  and  off  in  a  very  undecided  manner,  as  though  hesitating 
to  attack.  My  spirits  fell  again  at  this,  for  with  all  my  inexpe- 
rience I  knew  her  to  be  a  better  sailer  than  the  Black  3Ioll. 
Her  master,  as  Griggs  remarked,  "was  no  d — d  slouching  lub- 
ber, and  knew  a  yardarm  from  a  rattan  cane." 

Finally,  about  six  bells  of  the  watch,  the  stranger  wore  ship 
and  bore  down  across  our  bows,  hoisting  English  colours,  at 
sight  of  which  I  could  scarce  forbear  a  cheer.  At  this  instant. 
Captain  Griggs  woke  to  the  fact  that  his  helm  was  still  lashed, 
and  bestowing  a  hearty  kick  on  his  prostrate  quartermaster 
stuck  fast  to  the  pitchy  seams  of  the  deck,  took  the  wheel  him- 
self, and  easing  of£  before  the  wind  to  bring  the  vessels  broad- 
side to  broadside,  commanded  that  the  guns  be  shotted  to  the 


THE   "BLACK  MOLL"  173 

muzzle,  an  order  that  was  barely  executed  before  the  brigan- 
tine  came  within  close  range.  Aboard  her  was  all  order  and 
readiness ;  the  men  at  her  guns  fuse  in  hand,  an  erect  and 
pompous  figure  of  a  man,  in  a  cocked  hat,  on  the  break  of  her 
poop.  He  raised  his  hand,  two  puffs  of  Avhite  smoke  darted 
out,  and  I  heard  first  the  shrieking  of  shot,  the  broadside  came 
crashing  round  us,  one  tearing  through  the  mainsail  below  me, 
another  mangling  two  men  in  the  waist  of  our  schooner,  and 
Griggs  gave  the  order  to  touch  off.  But  two  of  his  guns 
answered,  one  of  which  had  been  so  gorged  Avith  shot  that  it 
burst  in  a  hundred  pieces  and  sent  the  fellow  with  the  swab 
to  perdition,  and  such  a  hell  of  blood  and  confusion  as  resulted 
is  indescribable.  I  saw  Griggs  in  a  wild  fit  of  rage  force  the 
helm  down,  the  schooner  flying  into  the  wind.  And  by  this 
time,  the  brigantine  having  got  round  and  presented  her  port 
battery,  raked  us  at  a  bare  hundred  yards,  and  I  was  the  first 
to  guess  by  the  tilting  forward  of  the  mast  that  our  hull  was 
hit  between  wind  and  water,  and  was  fast  settling  by  the  bow 

The  schooner  was  sinking  like  a  gallipot. 

That  day,  with  the  sea  flashing  blue  and  white  in  the  sun,  I 
saw  men  go  to  death  with  a  curse  upon  their  lips  and  a  fever 
in  their  eyes,  with  murder  and  defiance  of  God's  holy  will  in 
their  hearts.  Overtaken  in  bestiality,  like  the  judgment  of 
Nineveh,  five  and  twenty  disappeared  from  beneath  me,  and  I 
had  scarce  the  time  to  throw  off  my  cutlass  before  1,  too,  wag 
engulfed.     So  expired  the  Black  Moll. 


CHAPTER  XrX 

A   MAN   OF   DESTINY 

I  WAS  picked  up  and  thrown  into  the  brigantine's  long-boat 
with  a  head  and  stomach  full  of  salt  water,  and  a  heart  as 
light  as  spray  with  the  joy  of  it  all.  A  big,  red-bearded  man 
lifted  my  heels  to  drain  me, 

"  The  mon's  deid,"  said  he. 

"  Dead ! "  cried  I,  from  the  bottom-board.  "  No  more  dead 
than  you !  " 

I  turned  over  so  lustily  that  he  dropped  my  feet,  and  I  sat 
up,  something  to  his  consternation.  And  they  had  scarce 
hooked  the  ship's  side  when  I  sprang  up  the  sea-ladder,  to  the 
great  gaping  of  the  boat's  crew,  and  stood  with  the  water  run- 
ning off  me  in  rivulets  before  the  captain  himself.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  look  of  his  face  as  he  regarded  my  sorr}'-  figure. 

"  Now  by  Saint  Andrew,"  exclaimed  he,  "  are  ye  kelpie  or 
pirate  ?  " 

''Neither,  captain,"  I  replied,  smiling  as  the  comical  end  of 
it  came  up  to  me,  "  but  a  young  gentleman  in  misfortune." 

"  Hoots ! "  says  he,  frowning  at  the  grinning  half-circle 
about  us,  "it's  daft  ye  are  — " 

But  there  he  paused,  and  took  of  me  a  second  sizing.  How 
he  got  at  my  birth  behind  my  tangled  mat  of  hair  and  wring- 
ing linsey-woolsey  I  know  not  to  this  day.  But  he  dropped 
his  Scotch  and  merchant-captain's  manner,  and  was  suddenly  a 
French  courtier,  making  me  a  bow  that  had  done  credit  to 
a  Richelieu. 

"  Your  servant,  Mr.  —  " 

"  Richard  Carvel,  of  Carvel  Hall,  in  his  Majesty's  province 
of  Maryland."     • 

174 


-r**-^ 


<.-?,. 


AkK     VK     KEI.riE    OR    IMKATE  ?  " 


\ 


A   MAN   OF  DESTINY  175 

He  seemed  sufficiently  impressed. 

"Your  very  humble  servant,  Mr.  Carvel.  'Tis  in  faith  a 
privilege  to  be  able  to  serve  a  gentleman." 

He  bowed  me  toward  his  cabin,  and  then  in  sharp,  quick 
tones  he  gave  an  order  to  his  mate  to  get  under  way,  and  I 
saw  the  men  turning  to  the  braces  with  wonder  in  their  eyes. 
My  own  astonishment  was  as  great.  And  so,  with  my  clothes 
sucking  to  my  body  and  a  trail  of  water  behind  me  like  that 
of  a  wet  walrus,  I  accompanied  the  captain  aft.  His  quarters 
were  indeed  a  contrast  to  those  of  Griggs,  being  so  neat  that  I 
paused  at  the  door  for  fear  of  profaning  them;  but  was  so 
courteously  bid  to  enter  that  I  came  on  again.  He  summoned 
a  boy  from  the  round  house. 

"  William,"  said  he,  "  a  bottle  of  my  French  brandy.  And 
my  compliments  to  Mr.  MacMuir,  and  ask  him  for  a  suit  of 
clothes.  You  are  a  larger  man  than  I,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said  to 
me,  "  or  I  would  fit  you  out  according  to  your  station." 

I  was  too  overwhelmed  to  speak.  He  poured  out  a  liberal 
three  fingers  of  brandy,  and  pledged  me  as  handsomely  as  I 
had  been  an  admiral  come  thither  in  mine  own  barge,  instead 
of  a  ragged  lad  picked  off  a  piratical  slaver,  with  nothing  save 
my  bare  word  and  address.  'Twas  then  I  had  space  to  note 
him  more  particularly.  His  skin  was  the  rich  colour  of  a  well- 
seasoned  ship's  bell,  and  he  was  of  the  middle  height,  owned  a 
slight,  graceful  figure,  tapering  down  at  the  waist  like  a  top, 
which  had  set  off  a  silk  coat  to  perfection  and  soured  the 
beaus  with  envy.  His  movements,  however,  had  all  the  de- 
cision of  a  man  of  action  and  of  force.  But  his  eye  it  was 
took  possession  of  me  —  an  unfathomable,  dark  eye,  which  bore 
more  toward  melancholy  than  sternness,  and  yet  had  some- 
thing of  both.  He  wore  a  clean,  rufiled  shirt,  an  exceeding 
neat  coat  and  breeches  of  blue  broadcloth,  with  plate  burnished 
buttons,  and  white  cotton  stockings.  Truly,  this  was  a  person 
to  make  one  look  twice,  and  think  oftener.  Then,  as  I  went 
to  pledge  him,  I,  too,  was  caught  for  his  name. 

"  Paul,"  said  he ;  "  John  Paul,  of  the  brigantine  John,  of 
Kirkcudbright,  in  the  West  India  trade." 

"  Captain  Paul  —  "I  began.      But  my  gratitude  stuck  fast 


176  EICHARD   CARVEL 

in  my  throat  and  flowed  out  of  my  eyes.  For  the  thought  ol 
the  horrors  from  which  he  had  saved  me  for  the  first  time 
swept  over  me;  his  own  kind  treatment  overcame  me,  and  I 
blubbered  like  a  child.     With  that  he  turned  his  back. 

"  Hoots,"  says  he,  again,  "  dinna  ye  thank  me.  'Tis  naeth- 
ing  to  scuttle  a  nest  of  vermin,  but  the  duty  of  ilka  man  who 
sails  the  seas."  By  this,  having  got  the  better  of  his  emotion, 
he  added :  "  And  if  it  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  save  a  gen- 
tleman, Mr.  Carvel,  I  thank  God  for  it,  as  you  must." 

Save  for  a  slackness  inside  the  leg  and  in  the  hips,  Mac- 
Muir's  clothes  titted  me  well  enough,  and  presently  I  reappeared 
in  the  captain's  cabin  rigged  out  in  the  mate's  shore  suit  of 
purplish  drab,  and  brass-buckled  shoes  that  came  high  over 
the  instep,  with  my  hair  combed  clear  and  tied  with  a  ribbon 
behind.  I  felt  at  last  that  I  might  lay  some  claim  to  respect- 
ability. And  what  was  my  surprise  to  find  Captain  Paul 
buried  to  his  middle  in  a  great  chest,  and  the  place  strewn 
about  with  laced  and  broidered  coats  and  waistcoats,  frocks 
and  Newmarkets,  like  any  tailor's  shop  in  Church  Street.  So 
strange  they  looked  in  those  tropical  seas  that  he  was  near  to 
catching  me  in  a  laugh  as  he  straightened  up.  'Twas  then  I 
noted  that  he  was  a  younger  man  than  I  had  taken  him  for. 

"You  gentlemen  from  the  southern  colonies  are  too  well 
nourished,  by  far,"  says  he ;  "  you  are  apt  to  be  large  of  chest 
and  limb.  'Odds  bods,  Mr.  Carvel,  it  grieves  me  to  see  you 
apparelled  like  a  barber  surgeon.  If  the  good  Lord  had  but 
made  you  smaller,  now,"  and  he  sighed,  "  how  well  this  sky- 
blue  frock  had  set  you  off." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  content,  and  more,  captain,"  I  replied  with  a 
smile,  "and  thankful  to  be  safe  amongst  friends.  Never,  I 
assure  you,  have  I  had  less  desire  for  finery." 

"  Ay,"  said  he,  "  you  may  well  say  that,  you  who  have  worn 
silk  all  your  life,  and  will  the  rest  of  it,  and  we  get  safe  to 
port.  But  believe  me,  sir,  the  pleasure  of  seeing  one  of  your 
face  and  figure  in  such  a  coat  as  that  would  not  be  a  small 
one." 

And  disregarding  my  blushes  and  protests,  he  held  up  the 
watchet  blue  frock  against  me,  and  it  was  near  fitting  me  but 


A  MAN   OF  DESTINY  17'/ 

for  my  breadth,  —  the  skirts  being  prodigiously  long.  I  won- 
dered mightily  what  tailor  had  thrust  this  garment  upon  him  ; 
its  fashion  was  of  the  old  king's  time,  the  cuffs  slashed  like  a 
sea-officer's  uniform,  and  the  shoulders  made  carefully  round. 
But  other  thoughts  were  running  within  me  then. 

"Captain,"  I  cut  in,  "you  are  sailing  eastward." 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  answered  absently,  fingering  some  Point 
d'Espagne. 

"  There  is  no  chance  of  touching  in  the  colonies  ?  "  I  per- 
sisted. 

"Colonies!  No,"  said  he,  in  the  same  abstraction;  "I  am 
making  for  the  Solway,  being  long  overdue.  But  what  think 
you  of  this,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  " 

And  he  held  up  a  wondrous  vellum-hole  waistcoat  of  a 
gone-by  vintage,  and  I  saw  how  futile  it  were  to  attempt  to 
lead  him,  while  in  that  state  of  absorption,  to  topicb  which 
touched  my  affair.  Of  a  sudden  the  significance  of  what  he 
had  said  crept  over  me,  the  word  Solway  repeating  itself  in 
my  mind.  That  firth  bordered  England  itself,  and  Dorothy 
was  in  London  !  I  became  reconciled.  I  had  no  particle  ot 
objection  to  the  Solway  save  the  uneasiness  my  grandfather 
would  come  through,  which  was  beyond  helping.  Fate  had 
ordered  things  well. 

Then  I  fell  to  applauding,  while  the  captain  tried  on  (for 
he  was  not  content  with  holding  up)  another  frock  of  white 
drab,  which,  cuffs  and  pockets,  I'll  take  my  oath  mounted  no 
less  than  twenty-four:  another  j)lain  one  of  pink  cut-velvet; 
tail-coats  of  silk,  heavily  broidered  Avith  flowers,  and  satin 
waistcoats  with  narrow  lace.  He  took  an  inconceivable  enjoy- 
ment out  of  this  parade,  discoursing  the  while,  like  a  nobleman 
with  nothing  but  dress  in  his  head,  or,  perhaps,  like  a  master- 
cutter,  about  the  turn  of  this  or  that  lapel,  the  length  from 
armpit  to  fold,  and  the  number  of  button-holes  that  was 
proper.  And  finally  he  exhibited  with  evident  pride  a  pair 
of  doeskins  that  buttoned  over  the  calf  to  be  worn  with  high 
shoes,  which  I  make  sure  he  would  have  tried  on  likewise  had 
he  been  oifered  the  slightest  encouragement.  So  he  exploited 
the  whole  of  his  wardrobe,  such  an  unlucky  assortment   of 


178  RICHARD   CARVEL 

finery  as  I  never  wish  to  see  again;  all  of  which,  however, 
became  him  marvellously,  though  I  think  he  had  looked  well 
in  anything.  I  hope  I  may  be  forgiven  the  perjury  I  did  that 
day.  I  wondered  greatly  that  such  a  foible  should  crop  out  in 
a  man  of  otherwise  sound  sense  and  plain  ability. 

At  length,  when  the  last  chest  was  shut  again  and  locked, 
and  I  had  exhausted  my  ingenuity  at  commendation,  and  my 
patience  also,  he  turned  to  me  as  a  man  come  out  of  a  trance. 

"  Od's  fish,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  cried,  ''  you  will  be  starved.  I 
had  forgot  your  state." 

I  owned  that  hunger  had  nigh  overcome  me,  whereupon  he 
Decame  very  solicitous,  bade  the  boy  bring  in  supper  at  once, 
and  in  a  short  time  we  sat  down  together  to  the  best  meal  I 
had  seen  for  a  month.  It  seemed  like  a  year.  Porridge,  and 
bacon  nicely  done,  and  duff  and  ale,  with  the  sea  rushing  past 
the  cabin  windows  as  we  ate,  touched  into  colour  by  the  setting 
sun.  Captain  Paul  did  not  mess  with  his  mates,  not  he,  and 
he  gave  me  to  understand  that  I  was  to  share  his  cabin,  apolo- 
gizing profusely  for  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  poor  fare.  He 
would  have  it  that  he,  and  not  I,  were  receiving  favour. 

"My  dear  sir,"  he  said  once,  "you  cannot  know  what  a  bit 
of  finery  is  to  me,  who  has  so  little  chance  for  the  wearing  of 
it.  To  discuss  with  a  gentleman,  a  connoisseur  (I  know  a  bit  of 
French,  Mr.  Carvel),  is  a  pleasure  I  do  not  often  come  at." 

His  simplicity  in  this  touched  me ;  it  was  pathetic. 

"How  know  you  I  am  a  gentleman.  Captain  Paul?"  I 
asked  curiously. 

"  I  should  lack  discernment,  sir,"  he  retorted,  with  some 
heat,  "  if  I  could  not  see  as  much.  Breeding  shines  through 
sack-cloth,  sir.  Besides,"  he  continued,  in  a  milder  tone,  "  the 
look  of  you  is  candour  itself.  Though  I  have  not  greatly  the 
advantage  of  you  in  age,  I  have  seen  many  men,  and  I  know 
that  such  a  face  as  yours  cannot  lie." 

Here  Mr.  Lowrie,  the  second  mate,  came  in  with  a  report; 
and  I  remarked  that  he  stood  up  hat  in  hand  whilst  making 
it,  very  much  as  if  Captain  Paul  commanded  a  frigate.  The 
captain  went  to  a  locker  and  brought  forth  some  mellow 
Madeira,  and  after  the  mate  had  taken  a  glass  of  it  standing, 


A  MAN   OF  DESTINY  179 

he  withdrew.  Then  we  lighted  pipes  and  sat  very  cosey  with 
a  lanthorn  swung  between  us,  and  Captain  Paul  expressed  a 
wish  to  hear  my  story. 

I  gave  him  my  early  history  briefly,  dwelling  but  casually 
upon  the  position  enjoyed  in  Maryland  by  my  family ;  but  I 
spoke  of  my  grandfather,  now  turning  seventy,  gray-haired  in 
the  service  of  King  and  province.  The  captain  was  indeed  a 
most  sympathetic  listener,  now  throwing  in  a  question  showing 
keen  Scotch  penetration,  and  anon  making  a  most  ludicrous 
inquiry  as  to  the  dress  livery  our  footmen  wore,  and  whether 
Mr.  Carvel  used  outriders  when  he  travelled  abroad.  This 
was  the  other  side  of  the  man.  As  the  wine  warmed  and  the 
pipe  soothed,  I  spoke  at  length  of  Grafton  and  the  rector ; 
and  when  I  came  to  the  wretched  contrivance  by  which  they 
got  me  aboard  the  Black  Moll,  he  was  stalking  hither  and 
thither  about  the  cabin,  his  fists  clenched  and  his  voice  thick, 
breaking  into  Scotch  again  and  vowing  that  hell  Avere  too  good 
for  such  as  they. 

His  indignation,  which  seemed  real  and  generous,  trans- 
formed him  into  another  man.  He  showered  question  after 
question  upon  me  concerning  my  uncle  and  Mr.  Allen ;  de- 
clared that  he  had  known  many  villains,  but  had  yet  to  hear 
of  their  equals ;  and  finally,  cooling  a  little,  gave  it  as  his 
judgment  that  the  crime  could  never  be  brought  home  to 
them.  This  was  my  own  opinion.  He  advised  me,  before  we 
turned  in,  to  "  gie  the  parson  a  crunt "  as  soon  as  ever  I  could 
lay  hands  upon  him. 

The  John  made  a  good  voyage  for  that  season,  with  fair 
winds  and  clear  skies  for  the  most  part.  'Twas  a  stout  ship 
and  a  steady,  with  generoua  breadth  of  beam,  and  kept  by  the 
master  as  clean  and  bright  as  his  porringer.  He  was  Emperor 
aboard  her.  He  spelt  Command  with  a  large  C,  and  when  he 
inspected,  his  jacks  stood  to  attention  like  man-o'-war's  men. 
The  John  mounting  only  four  guns,  and  but  two  of  them  nine- 
pounders,  I  expressed  my  astonishment  that  he  had  dared 
attack  a  pirate  craft  like  the  Black  Moll,  without  knowing  her 
condition  and  armament. 


180  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Richard,"  says  he,  impressively,  for  we  had  become  very 
friendly,  "  I  would  close  with  a  thirty-two  and  she  flew  that 
flag.  Why,  sir,  a  bold  front  is  half  the  battle,  using  circum- 
spection, of  a  course.  A  pretty  woman,  whatever  her  airs  and 
quality,  is  to  be  carried  the  same  way,  and  a  man  ought  never 
to  be  frightened  by  appearances." 

Sometimes,  at  our  meals,  we  discussed  politics.  But  he 
seemed  lukewarm  upon  this  subject.  He  had  told  me  that  he 
had  a  brother  William  in  Virginia,  who  was  a  hot  Patriot. 
The  American  quarrel  seemed  to  interest  him  very  little.  I 
should  like  to  underscore  this  last  sentence,  my  dears,  in  view 
of  what  comes  after.  What  he  said  on  the  topic  leaned  per- 
haps to  the  King's  side,  tho'  he  was  careful  to  say  nothing  that 
would  give  me  offence.  I  was  not  surprised,  for  I  had  made  a 
fair  guess  of  his  ambitions.  It  is  only  honest  to  declare  that 
in  my  soberer  moments  my  estimate  of  his  character  suffered. 
But  he  was  a  strange  man,  —  a  genius,  as  I  soon  discovered,  to 
rouse  the  most  sluggish  nature  to  enthusiasm. 

The  joy  of  sailing  is  born  into  some  men,  and  those  who  are 
marked  for  the  sea  go  down  thither  like  the  very  streams,  to 
be  salted.  AVhatever  the  sign,  old  Stanwix  was  not  far  wrong 
when  he  read  it  upon  me,  and  'twas  no  great  while  before  I 
was  part  and  parcel  of  the  ship  beneath  my  feet,  breathing 
deep  with  her  every  motion.  What  feeling  can  compare  with 
that  I  tasted  when  the  brigantine  lay  on  her  side,  the  silver 
spray  hurling  over  the  bulwarks  and  stinging  me  to  life !  Or, 
in  the  watches,  to  hear  the  sea  lashing  along  her  strakes  in 
never  ending  music !  I  gave  MacMuir  his  shore  suit  again, 
and  hugely  delighted  and  astonished  Captain  Paul  by  donning 
a  jacket  of  Scotch  wool  and  a  pair  of  seaman's  boots,  and  so 
became  a  sailor  myself.  I  had  no  mind  to  sit  idle  the  passage, 
and  the  love  of  it,  as  I  have  said,  was  in  me.  In  a  fortnight  I 
went  aloft  with  the  best  of  the  watch  to  reef  topsails,  and  trod 
a  foot-rope  without  losing  head  or  balance,  bent  an  earing, 
and  could  lay  hand  on  any  lift,  brace,  sheet,  or  haulyards  in 
the  racks.  John  Paul  himself  taught  me  to  tack  and  wear 
ship,  and  MacMuir  to  stow  a  headsail.  The  craft  came  to  me, 
as  it  were,  in  a  hand-gallop. 


A  MAN   OF  DESTINY  181 

At  first  I  could  make  nothing  of  the  crew,  not  being  able  to 
understand  a  word  of  their  Scotch ;  but  I  remarked,  from  the 
first,  that  they  were  sour  and  sulky,  and  given  to  gathering  in 
knots  when  the  captain  or  MacMuir  had  not  the  deck.  For 
Mr.  Lowrie,  poor  man,  they  had  little  respect.  But  they 
plainly  feared  the  first  mate,  and  John  Paul  most  of  all.  Of 
me  their  suspicion  knew  no  bounds,  and  they  would  give  me 
gruif  answers,  or  none,  when  I  spoke  to  them.  These  things 
roused  both  curiosity  and  foreboding  within  me. 

Many  a  watch  I  paced  thro'  with  MacMuir,  big  and  red  and 
kindly,  and  I  was  not  long  in  letting  him  know  of  the  interest 
which  Captain  Paul  had  inspired  within  me.  His  own  feeling 
for  him  was  little  short  of  idolatry.  I  had  surmised  much  as 
to  the  rank  of  life  from  which  the  captain  had  sprung,  but  my 
astonishment  was  great  when  I  was  told  that  John  Paul  was 
the  son  of  a  poor  gardener. 

"A  gardener's  son,  Mr.  MacMuir  ! "  I  repeated. 

"  Just  that,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "  a  guid  man  an'  haly  was 
auld  Paul.  Unco  puir,  by  reason  o'  seven  bairns.  I  kennt 
the  daddie  weel.  I  raak  sma'  doubt  the  captaiu'll  tak  ye 
hanie  wi'  him,  syne  the  mither  an'  sisters  still  be  i'  the  cot 
i'  Mr.  Craik's  croft." 

"Tell  me,  MacMuir,"  said  I,  "is  not  the  captain  in  some 
trouble  ?  " 

For  I  knew  that  something,  whatever  it  was,  hung  heavy  on 
John  Paul's  mind  as  we  drew  nearer  Scotland.  At  times  his 
brow  would  cloud  and  he  would  fall  silent  in  the  midst  of  a 
jest.  And  that  night,  with  the  .stars  jumping  and  the  air 
biting  cold  (for  we  were  up  in  the  40's),  and  the  John  wish- 
washing  through  the  seas  at  three  leagues  the  hour,  MacMuir 
told  me  the  story  of  Mungo  IMaxAvell.  You  may  read  it  for 
yourselves,  my  dears,  in  the  life  of  John  Paul  Jones. 

"  V/ae's  me  !  "  he  said,  with  a  heave  of  his  big  chest,  "  I  reca' 
as  yestreen  the  night  Maxwell  cam  aboord.  The  sun  gaed 
doon  a'  bluidy,  an'  belyve  the  morn  rose  unco  mirk  an'  dreary, 
wi'  bullers^  frae  the  west  like  muckle  sowthers^  wi'  white 
plumes.  I  tauld  the  captain  'twas  a'  the  faut  o'  Maxwell.  I 
1  Rollers.  -  Soldiers. 


182  RICHARD   CARVEL 

ue'er  cad  bide  the  blellum.^  Dour  an'  din  ^  he  was,  wi'  ae  girn 
like  th'  auld  hornie.^  But  the  captain  wadna  hark  to  my  rede 
when  I  tauld  liiin  naught  but  dool  *  wad  coom  o'  taking  Mungo." 

It  seemed  that  John  Paul,  contrary  to  MacMuir's  advice,  had 
shipped  as  carpenter  on  the  voyage  out  —  near  seven  months 
since  —  a  man  by  the  name  of  Mungo  Maxwell.  The  captain's 
motive  had  nothing  in  it  but  kindness,  and  a  laudable  desire 
to  do  a  good  turn  to  a  playmate  of  his  boyhood.  As  MacMuir 
said,  "they  had  gaed  barefit  thegither  amang  the  braes."  The 
man  hailed  from  Kirkbean,  John  Paul's  own  parish.  But  he 
had  within  him  little  of  the  milk  of  kindness,  being  in  truth 
a  sour  and  mutinous  devil;  and  instead  of  the  gratitude  he 
might  have  shown,  he  cursed  the  fate  that  had  placed  him 
under  the  gardener's  son,  whom  he  deemed  no  better  than 
himself.  The  John  had  scarce  cleared  the  Solway  before 
Maxwell  showed  signs  of  impudence  and  rebellion. 

The  crew  was  three-fourths  made  of  Kirkcudbright  men  who 
had  known  the  master  from  childhood,  many  of  them,  indeed, 
being  older  than  he ;  they  were  mostly  jealous  of  Paul,  envious 
of  the  command  he  had  attained  to  over  them,  and  impatient 
under  the  discipline  he  was  ever  ready  to  inflict.  'Tis  no  light 
task  to  enforce  obedience  from  those  with  whom  one  has  bird- 
nested.  But,  having  more  than  once  felt  the  weight  of  his 
hand,  they  feared  him. 

Dissatisfaction  among  such  spreads  apace,  if  a  leader  is  but 
given;  and  Maxwell  was  such  a  one.  His  hatred  for  John 
Paul  knew  no  bounds,  and,  having  once  tasted  of  his  dis- 
pleasure, he  lay  awake  o'  nights  scheming  to  ruin  him.  And 
this  was  the  plot:  when  the  Azores  should  be  in  the  wake, 
Captain  Paul  was  to  be  murdered  as  he  paced  his  quarterdeck 
in  the  morning,  the  two  mates  clapt  into  irons,  and  so  brought 
to  submission.  And  Maxwell,  who  had  no  more  notion  of 
navigation  than  a  carpenter  should,  was  to  take  the  John  to 
God  knows  where,  —  the  Guinea  coast,  most  probably.  He 
would  have  no  more  navy  regulations  on  a  merchant  brigantine, 
he  promised  them,  nor  banyan  days,  for  the  matter  o'  that. 

1 1  never  could  put  up  with  the  villain.  ^  Devil. 

3  Soar  and  sullen.  *  Sorrow. 


A  MAN"   OF  DESTINY  183 

Happily,  MaxjMiiir  himself  discovered  the  affair  on  the  eve 
of  its  perpetration,  overhearing  two  men  talking  in  the  bread- 
room,  and  he  ran  to  the  cabin  with  the  sweat  standing  out  on 
his  forehead.  But  the  captain  would  have  none  of  the  pre- 
cautions he  urged  ;  declared  he  would  walk  the  deck  as  usual, 
and  vowed  he  could  cope  single-handed  with  a  dozen  cowards 
like  Maxwell.  Sure  enough,  at  crowdie-time,  the  men  were 
seen  coming  aft,  with  Maxwell  in  the  van  carrying  a  bowl,  on 
the  pretext  of  a  complaint  against  the  cook. 

''John  Paul,"  said  MacMuir,  with  admiration  in  his  voice 
and  gesture,  "  John  Paul  wasna  feart  a  pickle,^  but  gaed  to  the 
mast,  whyles  I  stannt  chittering  i'  my  claes,^  fearfu'  for  his 
life.  He  teuk  the  horn^  from  Mungo,  priet^  a  soup  o'  the 
crowdie,  an'  wi'  that  he  seiz't  haut  o'  the  man  by  baith  shou- 
thers  ere  the  blastie  *  raught  ^  for  's  knife.  My  aith  upo  't,  sir, 
the  lave'  o'  the  batch  cowert  frae  his  e'e  for  a'  the  warld 
like  thumpit  tykes.^" 

So  ended  that  mutiny,  by  the  brave  act  of  a  brave  man. 
The  carpenter  was  clapt  into  irons  himself,  and  given  no  less 
of  the  cat-o'-nine-tails  than  was  good  for  him,  and  properly 
discharged  at  Tobago  with  such  as  had  supported  him.  But 
he  brought  Captain  Paul  before  the  vice-admiralty  court  of 
that  place,  charging  him  with  gross  crueltj',  and  this  proceed- 
ing had  delayed  the  brigantine  six  months  from  her  homeward 
voyage,  to  the  great  loss  of  her  owners.  And  tho'  at  length 
the  captain  was  handsomely  acquitted,  his  character  suffered 
unjustly,  for  there  lacked  not  those  who  put  their  own  inter- 
pretation upon  the  affair.  He  would  most  probably  lose  the 
brigantine.     "  He  expected  as  much,"  said  MacMuir. 

"  There  be  mony  aboord,"  he  concluded,  with  a  sigh,  "  as'll 
muckle  gash^  when  we  win  to  Kirkcudbright." 

1  Little  bit. 

2  Shivering  in  my  clothes. 

3  Spoon. 

4  Tasted. 

6  Scoundrel. 

6  Reached. 

7  Rest. 

*  Cowered  from  his  eye  for  all  the  world  like  whipt  dogs, 
s  Gossip. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A   SAD    HOME-COMING 

Mr.  Lowrie  and  Auctherlonnie,  the  Dumfries  bo'sun,  both 
of  whom  would  have  died  for  the  captain,  assured  me  of  the 
truth  of  MacMuir's  story,  and  shook  their  heads  gravely  as  to 
the  probable  outcome.  The  peculiar  water-mark  of  greatness 
that  is  woven  into  some  men  is  often  enough  to  set  their  own 
community  bitter  against  them.  Sandie,  the  plodding  peasant, 
finds  it  a  hard  matter  to  forgive  Jamie,  who  is  taken  from  the 
plough  next  to  his,  and  ends  in  Parliament.  The  afEair  of 
Mungo  Maxwell,  altered  to  suit,  had  already  made  its  way  on 
more  than  one  vessel  to  Scotland.  For  according  to  Lowrie, 
there  was  scarce  a  man  or  woman  in  Kirkcudbrightshire  who 
did  not  know  that  John  Paul  was  master  of  the  John,  and  (in 
their  hearts)  that  he  would  be  master  of  more  in  days  to  come. 
Human  nature  is  such  that  they  resented  it,  and  cried  out 
aloud  against  his  cruelty. 

On  the  voyage  I  had  many  sober  thoughts  of  my  own  to 
occupy  me:  of  the  terrible  fate,  from  which,  by  Divine  inter- 
position, I  had  been  rescued ;  of  the  home  I  had  left  behind. 
I  was  all  that  remained  to  Mr.  Carvel  in  the  world,  and  I  was 
sure  that  he  had  given  me  up  for  dead.  How  had  he  sus- 
tained the  shock  ?  I  saw  him  heavily  mounting  the  stairs 
upon  Scipio's  arm  when  first  the  news  was  brought  to  him. 
Next  Grafton  would  come  hurrying  in  from  Kent  to  Marlboro' 
Street,  disavowing  all  knowledge  of  the  messenger  from  New 
York,  and  intent  only  upon  comforting  his  father.  And  when 
I  pictured  my  uncle  soothing  him  to  his  face,  and  grinning 
behind  his  bed-curtains,  my  anger  would  scald  me,  and  the 
realization  of  my  helplessness  bring  tears  of  very  bitterness. 

184 


A   SAD   HOME-COMING  185 

What  would  I  not  have  given  then  for  one  word  with  that 
honest  and  faithful  friend  of  our  family,  Captain  Daniel !  I 
knew  that  he  suspected  Grafton :  he  had  told  me  as  much  that 
night  at  the  Coffee  House.  Perhaps  the  greatest  of  my  fears 
was  that  my  uncle  would  deny  him  access  to  Mr.  Carvel  when 
he  returned  from  the  North. 

In  the  eveiung,  when  the  sun  settled  red  upon  the  horizon, 
I  would  think  of  Patty  and  my  friends  in  Gloucester  Street. 
For  I  knew  they  missed  me  sadly  of  a  Sunday  at  the  supper- 
table.  But  it  has  ever  been  my  nature  to  turn  forward  instead 
of  back,  and  to  accept  the  twists  and  flings  of  fortune  with 
hope  rather  than  with  discouragement.  And  so,  as  we  left 
league  after  league  of  the  blue  ocean  behind  us,  I  would  set 
my  face  to  the  forecastle.     For  Dorothy  was  in  England. 

On  a  dazzling  morning  in  March,  with  the  brigantine  run- 
ning like  a  beagle  in  full  cry  before  a  heaping  sea  that  swayed 
her  body,  —  so  I  beheld  for  the  first  time  the  misty  green  of 
the  high  shores  of  Ireland.  Ah !  of  what  heroes'  deeds  was 
I  capable  as  I  watched  the  lines  come  out  in  bold  relief  from 
a  wonderland  of  cloud !  With  what  eternal  life  I  seemed  to 
tingle !  'Twas  as  though  I,  Richard  Carvel,  had  discovered 
all  this  colour ;  and  when  a  tiny  white  speck  of  a  cottage  came 
out  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  I  thought  irresistibly  of  the  joy 
to  live  there  the  year  round  with  Dorothy,  with  the  wind 
whistling  about  our  gables,  and  the  sea  thundering  on  the 
rocks  far  below.     Youth  is  in  truth  a  mystery. 

How  long  I  was  gazing  at  the  shifting  coast  I  know  not,  for 
a  strange  wildness  was  within  me  that  made  me  forget  all  else, 
until  suddenly  I  became  conscious  of  a  presence  at  my  side, 
and  turned  to  behold  the  captain. 

"  'Tis  a  braw  sight,  Richard,"  said  he,  "  but  no  sae  bonnie 
as  auld  Scotland.  An'  the  wind  hands,  we  shall  see  her  shores 
the  morn." 

His  voice  broke,  and  I  looked  again  to  see  two  great  tears 
rolling  upon  his  cheeks. 

"  Ah,  Scotland  ! "  he  pressed  on,  heedless  of  them,  "  God 
aboon  kens  what  she  is  to  me  !  But  she  hasna'  been  ower  guid 
to  me,  laddie."     And  he  walked  to  the  taffrail,  and  stood  look- 


186  RICHARD   CARVEL 

ing  astern  that  two  men  who  had  come  aft  to  splice  a  haulyard 
might  not  perceive  his  disorder.  I  followed  him,  emboldened 
to  speak  at  last  what  was  in  me. 

"  Captain  Paul,"  said  I,  "  MacMuir  has  told  me  of  your 
trouble.  My  grandfather  is  rich,  and  not  lacking  in  grati- 
tude," —  here  I  paused  for  suitable  words,  as  I  could  not  solve 
his  expression,  —  "you,  sir,  whose  bravery  and  charity  will 
have  restored  me  to  him,  shall  not  want  for  friends  and 
money." 

He  heard  me  through. 

"Mr.  Carvel,"  he  replied  with  an  impressiveness  that  took 
me  aback,  "reward  is  a  thing  that  should  not  be  spoken  of 
between  gentlemen." 

And  thus  he  left  me,  upbraiding  myself  that  I  should  have 
mentioned  money.  And  yet,  I  reflected  secondly,  why  not? 
He  was  no  more  nor  less  than  a  master  of  a  merchantman,  and 
surely  nothing  was  out  of  the  common  in  such  a  one  accepting 
what  he  had  honestly  come  by.  Had  my  affection  for  him 
been  less  sincere,  had  I  not  been  racked  with  sympathy,  I  had 
laughed  over  his  notions  of  gentility.  I  resolved,  however, 
that  when  I  had  reached  London  and  seen  Mr.  Dix,  Mr.  Car- 
vel's agent,  he  should  be  rewarded  despite  his  scruples.  And 
if  he  lost  his  ship,  he  should  have  one  of  my  grandfather's. 

But  at  dinner  he  had  plainly  forgot  any  offence,  and  I  had 
more  cause  than  ever  to  be  puzzled  over  his  odd  mixture  of 
confidence  and  aloofness.  He  talked  gayly  on  a  score  of  sub- 
jects,—  on  dress,  of  which  he  was  never  tired,  and  described 
ports  in  the  Indies  and  South  America,  in  a  fashion  that 
betrayed  prodigious  powers  of  acute  observation;  nor  did  he 
lack  for  wit  when  he  spoke  of  the  rich  planters  who  had 
wined  him,  and  had  me  much  in  laughter.  We  fell  into  a 
merry  mood,  in  sooth,  jingling  the  glasses  in  many  toasts,  for 
he  had  a  list  of  healths  to  make  me  gasp,  near  as  long  as  the 
brigantine's  articles,  —  Inez  in  Havana  and  Maraquita  in  Carta- 
gena, and  Clotilde,  the  Creole,  of  Martinico,  each  had  her  sep- 
arate charm.  Then  there  was  Bess,  in  Kingston,  the  relict  of 
a  customs  official.  Captain  Paul  relating  with  ingenuous  gusto 
a  midnight  brush  with  a  lieutenant  of  his  Majesty,  in  which 


A   SAD   HOME-COMING  187 

the  fair  widow  figured,  and  showed  her  preference,  too.  But 
his  adoration  for  the  ladies  of  the  more  northern  colonies,  he 
would  have  me  to  understand,  was  unbounded.  For  example. 
Miss  Arabella  Pope  of  Norfolk,  in  Virginia,  —  and  did  I 
know  her  ?  No,  I  had  not  that  pleasure,  though  I  assured 
him  the  Popes  of  Virginia  were  famed.  Miss  Pope  danced 
divinely  as  any  sylph,  and  the  very  memory  of  lier  tripping 
at  the  Norfolk  Assembly  roused  the  captain  to  such  a  pitch  of 
enthusiasm  as  I  had  never  seen  in  him.  Marvellous  to  say,  his 
own  words  failed  him,  and  he  had  recourse  to  the  poets :  — 

"  Her  feet  beneath  her  petticoat 
Like  little  mice  stole  in  and  out, 

As  if  they  feared  the  light ; 
But,  oh,  she  dances  such  a  way  ! 
No  sun  upon  an  Easter-day 
Is  half  so  fine  a  sight." 

The  lines,  he  told  me,  were  Sir  John  Suckling's;  and  he 
gave  them  standing,  in  excellent  voice  and  elegant  gesture. 

He  was  in  particular  partial  to  the  poets,  could  quote  at  will 
from  Gay  and  Thomson  and  Goldsmith  and  Gray,  and  even  from 
Shakespeare,  much  to  my  own  astonishment  and  humiliation. 
Saving  only  Dr.  Courtenay  of  Annapolis  I  had  never  met  his 
equal  for  versatility  of  speech  and  command  of  fine  language ; 
and,  having  heard  that  he  had  been  at  sea  since  the  age  of 
twelve,  I  made  bold  to  ask  him  at  what  school  he  had  go't  his 
knowledge. 

"At  none,  Richard,"  he  answered  with  pride,  "saving  the 
rudiments  at  the  Parish  School  at  Kirkbean.  Why,  sir,  I  hold 
it  to  be  within  every  man's  province  to  make  himself  what  he 
will,  and  I  early  recognized  in  Learning  the  only  guide  for  such 
as  me.  I  may  say  that  I  married  her  for  the  furtherance  of 
my  fortunes,  and  have  come  to  love  her  for  her  own  sake. 
Many  and  many  the  'tween-watch  have  I  passed  in  a  coil  of 
rope  in  the  tops,  a  volume  of  the  classics  in  my  hand.  And 
my  happiest  days,  when  not  at  sea,  have  been  spent  in  my 
brother  William's  little  library.  He  hath  a  modest  estate  near 
Fredericksburg,  in  Virginia,  and  none  holds  higher  than  he  the 
worth  of  an  education.    Ah,  Richard,"  he  added,  with  a  certain 


188  RICHARD   CARVEL 

sadness,  "I  fear  you  little  know  the  value  of  that  which  hath 
been  so  lavishly  bestowed  upon  you.  There  is  no  creation  in 
the  world  to  equal  your  fine  gentleman !  " 

It  struck  me  indeed  as  strange  that  a  man  of  his  powers 
should  set  store  by  such  trumpery,  and,  too,  that  these  notions 
had  not  impaired  his  ability  as  a  seaman.  1  did  not  reply. 
He  gave  no  heed,  however,  but  drew  from  a  case  a  number  of 
odes  and  compositions,  which  he  told  me  were  his  own.  They 
were  addressed  to  various  of  his  inamoratas,  abounded  in 
orrery,  and  were  all,  I  make  no  doubt,  incredibly  fine,  tho'  not 
so  much  as  one  sticks  in  my  mind.  To  speak  truth  I  listened 
with  a  very  ill  grace,  longing  the  while  to  be  on  deck,  for  we 
were  about  to  sight  the  Isle  of  Man.  The  wine  and  the  air  of 
the  cabin  had  made  my  eyes  heavy.  But  presently,  when  he 
had  run  through  with  some  dozen  or  more,  he  put  them  by,  and 
with  a  quick  motion  got  from  his  chair,  a  light  coming  into  his 
dark  eyes  that  startled  me  to  attention.  And  I  forgot  the  mer- 
chant captain,  and  seemed  to  be  looking  forward  into  the  years. 

"Mark  you,  Richard,"  said  he,  "mark  well  when  I  say  that 
my  time  will  come,  and  a  day  when  the  best  of  them  will  bow 
to  me.  And  every  ell  of  that  triumph  shall  be  mine,  sir,  —  ay, 
every  inch  ! " 

Such  was  his  force,  which  sprang  from  some  hidden  fire 
within  him,  that  I  believed  his  words  as  firmly  as  they  had 
been  writ  down  in  the  Book  of  Isaiah.  Brimming  over  with 
enthusiasm,  I  pledged  his  coming  greatness  in  a  reaming  glass 
of  Malaga. 

"Alack,"  he  cried,  "an'  they  all  had  your  faith,  laddie,  a 
fig  for  the  prophecy !  Ye  maun  ken  th'  incentive's  the  maist 
o'  the  battle." 

There  was  more  of  wisdom  in  this  than  I  dreamed  of  then. 
Here  lay  hid  the  very  keynote  of  that  ambitious  character :  he 
stooped  to  nothing  less  than  greatness  for  a  triumph  over  his 
slanderers. 

I  rose  betimes  the  next  morning  to  find  the  sun  peeping 
above  the  wavy  line  of  the  Scottish  hills  far  up  the  Solway, 
and  the  brigantine  sliding  smoothly  along  in  the  lee  of  the 
Galloway  Rhinns.     And,  though  the  month  was  March,  the 


A   SAD   HOME-COMING  189 

slopes  of  Burrow  Head  were  green  as  the  lawn  of  Carvel  Hall 
in  May,  and  the  slanting  rays  danced  on  the  ruffed  water. 
By  eight  of  the  clock  we  had  crept  into  Kirkcudbright  Bay 
and  anchored  off  St.  Mary's  Isle,  the  tide  running  ebb,  and 
leaving  a  wide  brown  belt  of  sand  behind  it. 

St.  Mary's  Isle !  As  we  looked  upon  it  that  day,  John 
Paul  and  I,  and  it  lay  low  against  the  bright  water  with  its 
bare  oaks  and  chestnuts  against  the  dark  pines,  'twas  perhaps 
as  well  that  the  future  was  sealed  to  us. 

Captain  Paul  had  conned  the  brigantine  hither  with  a  mas- 
ter's hand;  but  now  that  the  anchor  was  on  the  ground,  he 
became  palpably  nervous.  I  had  donned  again  good  MacMuir's 
shore  suit,  and  was  standing  by  the  gangway  when  the  captain 
approached  me. 

"  What'll  ye  be  doing  now,  Dickie  lad  ?  "  he  asked  kindly. 

What  indeed !  I  was  without  money  in  a  foreign  port,  still 
dependent  upon  my  benefactor.  And  since  he  had  declared 
his  unwillingness  to  accept  any  return  I  was  of  no  mind  to 
go  farther  into  his  debt.  I  thanked  him  again  for  his  good- 
ness in  what  sincere  terms  I  could  choose,  and  told  him  I 
should  be  obliged  if  he  would  put  me  in  the  way  of  working 
my  passage  to  London  upon  some  coasting  vessel.  But  my 
voice  was  thick,  my  affection  for  him  having  grown  past  my 
understanding. 

"  Hoots  ! "  he  replied,  moved  in  his  turn,  '*  whylos  I  hae 
siller  ye  shallna  lack.  Ye  maun  gae  post-chaise  to  London,  as 
befits  yere  station." 

And  scouting  my  expostulations,  he  commanded  the  long- 
boat, bidding  me  be  ready  to  go  ashore  with  him.  1  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  say  farewell  to  MacMuir  and  Lowrie  and 
Auctherlonnie,  which  was  hard  enough.  For  the  honest  first 
mate  I  had  a  great  liking,  and  was  touched  beyond  speech 
when  he  enjoined  me  to  keep  his  shore  suit  as  long  as  I  had 
want  of  it. 

"  But  you  will  be  needing  it,  MacMuir,"  I  said,  suspecting 
he  had  no  other. 

"  Haith !  I  am  but  a  plain  man,  Mr.  Carvel,  and  ye  can  sen' 
back  the  claes  frae  London,  wi'  this  geordie." 


190  RICHARD   CARVEL 

He  slipped  a  guinea  into  my  hand,  but  this  I  positively 
refused  to  take ;  and  to  hide  my  feelings  I  climbed  quickly 
over  the  side  and  into  the  stern  of  the  boat,  beside  the  captain, 
and  was  rowed  away  through  the  little  fleet  of  cobles  gather- 
ing about  the  ship.  Twisting  my  neck  for  a  parting  look  at 
the  John,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  MacMuir's  ungainly  shoulders 
over  the  fokesle  rail,  and  I  was  near  to  tears  as  he  shouted  a 
hearty  "  God  speed  "  after  me. 

As  we  drew  near  the  town  of  Kirkcudbright,  which  lies  very 
low  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Dee.  I  made  out  a  group  of  men 
and  women  on  the  wharves.  The  captain  was  silent,  regarding 
them.  When  we  had  got  within  twenty  feet  or  so  of  the  land- 
ing, a  dame  in  a  red  woollen  kerchief  called  out :  — 

"  What  hae  ye  done  wi'  Mungo,  John  Paul  ?  " 

"  Captain  John  Paul,  Mither  Birkie,"  spoke  up  a  coarse 
fellow  with  a  rough  beard.     And  a  laugh  went  round. 

"Ay,  captain!  Pll  coptom  him!"  screamed  the  carlin, 
pushing  to  the  front  as  the  oars  were  tossed,  "I'll  tak  aith 
Mr.  Currie'll  be  captaining  him  for  his  towmond  voyage  o' 
piratin'.  He  be  leukin'  for  ye  noo,  John  Paul."  With  that 
some  of  the  men  on  the  thwarts,  perceiving  that  matters  were 
likely  to  go  ill  with  the  captain,  began  to  chaff  with  their 
friends  above.  The  respect  with  which  he  had  inspired  them, 
however,  prevented  any  overt  insult  on  their  part.  As  for  me, 
my  temper  had  flared  up  like  the  burning  of  a  loose  charge  of 
powder,  and  by  instinct  my  right  hand  sought  the  handle  of  the 
mate's  hanger.     The  beldame  saw  the  motion. 

"  An'  hae  ye  murder't  MacMuir,  John  Paul,  an'  gien's  claes 
to  a  Buckskin  gowk  ?  " 

The  knot  stirred  with  an  angry  murmur :  in  truth  they 
meant  violence,  —  nothing  less.  But  they  had  counted  with- 
out their  man,  for  Paul  was  born  to  ride  greater  crises.  With 
his  lips  set  in  a  line  he  stepped  lightly  out  of  the  boat  into 
their  very  midst,  and  they  looked  into  his  eyes  to  forget  time 
and  place.  MacMuir  had  told  me  how  those  eyes  could  con- 
quer mutiny,  but  I  had  not  believed  had  I  not  been  there  to 
see  the  pack  of  them  give  back  in  sullen  wonder.  And  so  we 
walked  through  and  on  to  the  little  street  beyond,  and  never  a 


A   SAD   HOME-COMING  191 

■word  from  the  captain  until  we  came  opposite  the  sign  of  the 
"  Hurcheon." 

''  Do  you  await  me  here,  Richard,"  he  said  quite  calmly  ;  "  I 
must  seek  Mr.  Currie,  and  make  my  report." 

I  have  still  the  remembrance  of  that  pitiful  day  in  the  clean 
little  village.  I  went  into  the  inn  and  sat  down  upon  an  oak 
settle  in  a  corner  of  the  bar,  under  the  high  lattice,  and  thought 
of  the  bitterness  of  this  home-coming.  If  I  was  amongst 
strangers,  he  was  amongst  worse :  verily,  to  have  one's  own 
people  set  against  one  is  heaviness  of  heart  to  a  man  whose 
love  of  Scotland  was  great  as  John  Paul's.  After  a  while  the 
place  began  to  fill,  Willie  and  Robbie  and  Jamie  arriving  to 
discuss  Paul's  return  over  their  nappy.  The  little  I  could 
make  of  their  talk  was  not  to  my  liking,  but  for  the  captain's 
sake  I  kept  my  anger  under  as  best  I  could,  for  I  had  the  sense 
to  know  that  brawling  with  a  lot  of  alehouse  frequenters 
would  not  advance  his  cause.  At  length,  however,  came  in  the 
same  sneering  fellow  I  had  marked  on  the  wharf,  calling 
loudly  for  swats.  ''  Ay,  Captain  Paul  was  noo  at  Mr.  Currie's, 
syne  banie  Alan  see'd  him  gang  forbye  the  kirk."  The 
speaker's  name,  I  learned,  was  Davie,  and  he  had  been  talking 
with  each  and  every  man  in  the  long-boat.  Yes,  Mungo  Max- 
well had  been  cat-o'-nine-tailed  within  an  inch  of  his  life ;  and 
that  was  the  truth ;  for  a  trifling  offence,  too ;  and  cruelly  dis- 
charged at  some  outlandish  port  because,  forsooth,  he  would 
not  accept  the  gospel  of  the  divinity  of  Captain  Paul.  He 
would  as  soon  sign  papers  with  the  devil. 

This  Davie  was  gifted  with  a  dangerous  kind  of  humour  which 
I  have  heard  called  innuendo,  and  he  soon  had  the  bar  packed 
with  listeners  who  laughed  and  cursed  turn  about,  filling  the 
room  to  a  closeness  scarce  supportable.  And  what  between 
the  foul  air  and  my  resentment,  and  apprehension  lest  John 
Paul  would  come  hither  after  me,  I  was  in  prodigious  dis- 
comfort of  body  and  mind.  But  there  was  no  pushing  my 
way  through  them  unnoticed,  wedged  as  I  was  in  a  far  corner; 
so  I  sat  still  until  unfortunately,  or  fortunately,  the  eye  of 
Davie  chanced  to  fall  upon  me,  and  immediately  his  yellow 
face  lighted  malignantly. 


192  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Oh  !  here  be  the  gentleman  the  captain's  brocht  hame  ! " 
he  cried,  emphasizing  the  two  words  ;  "  as  braw  a  gentleman  as 
eer  taeii  frae  pirates,  an'  nae  doubt  sin  to  ae  bien  Buckskin 
bonnet-laird." 

I  saw  through  his  game  of  getting  satisfaction  out  of  John 
Paul  thro'  goading  me,  and  determined  he  should  have  his  fill 
of  it.  For,  all  in  all,  he  had  me  mad  enough  to  fight  three 
times  over. 

"  Set  aside  the  gentleman,''  said  I,  standing  up  and  taking 
off  MacMuir's  coat,  "  and  call  me  a  lubberly  clout  like  yourself, 
and  we  will  see  which  is  the  better  clout."  I  put  off  the  long- 
sleeved  jacket,  and  faced  him  with  my  fists  doubled,  crying: 
"  I'll  teach  you,  you  spawn  of  a  dunghill,  to  speak  ill  of  a  good 
man ! " 

A  clamour  of  "  Fecht !  fecht ! "  arose,  and  some  of  them  ap- 
plauded me,  calling  me  a  "  swankie,"  which  I  believe  is  a  com- 
pliment. A  certain  sense  of  fairness  is  often  to  be  found  where 
least  expected.  They  capsized  the  fat,  protesting  browster- 
wife  over  her  own  stool,  and  were  pulling  Jamie's  coat  from 
his  back,  when  I  began  to  suspect  that  a  fight  was  not  to  the 
sniveller's  liking.  Indeed,  the  very  look  of  him  made  me  laugh 
out  —  'twas  now  as  mild  as  a  summer's  morn. 

"  Wow,"  says  Jamie,  "ye  maun  fecht  wi'  a  man  o'  yere  ain 
size." 

"  I'll  lay  a  guinea  that  we  weigh  even,"  said  I;  and  suddenly 
remembered  that  I  had  not  so  much  as  tuppence  to  bless  me. 

Happily  he  did  not  accept  the  wager.  In  huge  disgust  they 
hustled  him  from  the  inn  and  put  forward  the  blacksmith,  who 
was  standing  at  the  door  in  his  leather  apron.  Now  1  had  not 
bargained  with  the  smith,  who  seemed  a  well-natured  enough 
man,  and  grinned  broadly  at  the  prospect.  But  they  made  a 
ring  on  the  floor,  I  going  over  it  at  one  end,  and  he  at  the 
other,  when  a  cry  came  from  the  street,  those  about  the  entrance 
parted,  and  in  walked  John  Paul  himself.  At  sight  of  him  my 
new  adversary,  who  was  preparing  to  deal  me  out  a  blow  to  fell 
an  ox,  dropped  his  arms  in  surprise,  and  held  out  his  big  hand. 

"  Haith !  John  Paul,"  he  shouted  heartily,  forgetting  me, 
"  'tis  blythe  I  am  to  see  yere  bonnie  face  ance  mair ! " 


In  walked  John  Paul  himself 


A   SAD   HOME-COMING  193 

"  An*  wha  are  ye,  Jamie  Darrell,"  said  the  captain,  "  to  be 
bangin'  yere  betters  ?     Dinua  ye  ken  gentry  when  ye  see't  ?  " 

A  puzzled  look  spread  over  the  smith's  grimy  face. 

"  Gentry  !  "  says  he ;  "  nae  gentry  that  I  ken,  John  Paul. 
Th'  fecht  be  but  a  bit  o'  fun,  an'  nane  o'  my  seekin'." 

''What  quarrel  is  this,  Richard?"  says  John  Paul  to  me. 

"  In  truth  I  have  no  quarrel  with  this  honest  man,"  I  replied; 
"  I  desired  but  the  pleasure  of  beating  a  certain  evil-tongued 
Davie,  who  seems  to  have  no  stomach  for  blows,  and  hath  taken 
his  lies  elsewhere." 

So  quiet  was  the  place  that  the  tinkle  of  the  guidwife's 
needle,  which  she  had  dropped  to  the  flags,  sounded  clear  to 
all.  John  Paul  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  ring,  erect,  like  a 
man  inspired,  and  the  same  strange  sense  of  prophecy  that  had 
stirred  my  blood  crept  over  him  and  awed  the  rest,  as  tho'  'twere 
suddenly  given  to  see  him,  not  as  he  was,  but  as  he  would  be. 
Then  he  spoke. 

"  You,  who  are  my  countrymen,  who  should  be  my  oldest  and 
best  friends,  are  become  my  enemies.  You  who  were  com- 
panions of  my  childhood  are  revilers  of  my  manhood;  you 
have-  robbed  me  of  my  good  name  and  my  honour,  of  my  ship, 
of  my  very  means  of  livelihood,  and  you  are  not  content ;  you 
would  rob  me  of  my  country,  which  I  hold  dearer  than  all. 
And  I  have  never  done  you  evil,  nor  spoken  aught  against  you. 
As  for  the  man  Maxwell,  whose  part  you  take,  his  child  is 
starving  in  your  very  midst,  and  you  have  not  lifted  your 
hands.  'Twas  for  her  sake  I  shipped  him,  and  none  other. 
May  God  forgive  you !  He  alone  sees  the  bitterness  in  my 
heart  this  day.  He  alone  knows  my  love  for  Scotland,  and 
what  it  costs  me  to  renounce  her." 

He  had  said  so  much  with  an  infinite  sadness,  and  I  read  a 
response  in  the  eyes  of  more  than  one  of  his  listeners,  the 
guidwife  weeping  aloud.  But  now  his  voice  rose,  and  he  ended 
with  a  fiery  vigour. 

"  Renounce   her   I   do,"  he  cried,  "  now   and  f orevermore ! 
Henceforth  I  am  no  countryman  of  j^ours.     And  if  a  day  of 
repentance  sliotdd  come  for  this  evil,  remember  well  what  I  have 
said  to  you." 
o 


194  RICHARD   CARVEL 

They  stood  for  a  moment  when  he  had  finished,  shifting  un- 
easily, their  tongues  gone,  like  lads  caught  in  a  lie.  I  think 
they  felt  his  greatness  then,  and  had  any  one  of  them  possessed 
the  nobility  to  come  forward  with  an  honest  word,  John  Paul 
might  yet  have  been  saved  to  Scotland.  As  it  was,  they  slunk 
away  in  twos  and  threes,  leaving  at  last  only  the  good  smith 
with  us.  He  was  not  a  man  of  talk,  and  the  tears  had  washed 
the  soot  from  his  face  in  two  white  furrows. 

"  Ye'll  hae  a  waught  wi'  me  afore  ye  gang,  John,"  he  said 
clumsily,  "  for  th'  morns  we've  paddP  't  thegither  i'  th'  Nith." 

The  ale  was  brought  by  the  guidwife,  who  paused,  as  she 
put  it  down,  to  wipe  her  eyes  with  her  apron.  She  gave  John 
Paul  one  furtive  glance  and  betook  herself  again  to  her  knit- 
ting with  a  sigh,  speech  having  failed  her  likewise.  The  cap- 
tain grasped  up  his  mug. 

"  May  God  bless  you,  Jamie,"  he  said. 

"  Ye'll  be  gaen  noo  to  see  the  mither,"  said  Jamie,  after  a 
long  space. 

"  Ay,  for  the  last  time.  An',  Jamie,  ye'll  see  that  nae  harm 
cams  to  her  when  I'm  far  awa'  ?  " 

The  smith  promised,  and  also  agreed  to  have  John  Paul's 
chests  sent  by  wagon,  that  very  day,  to  Dumfries.  And  we 
left  him  at  his  forge,  his  honest  breast  torn  with  emotion, 
looking  after  us. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


THE    GAEDENEr's    COTTAGE 


So  we  walked  out  of  the  village,  with  many  a  head  craned 
after  us  and  many  an  eye  peeping  from  behind  a  shutter,  and 
on  into  the  open  highway.  The  day  was  heavenly  bright,  the 
wind  humming  around  us  and  playing  mad  pranks  with  the 
white  cotton  clouds,  and  I  forgot  awhile  the  pity  within  me  to 
wonder  at  the  orderly  look  of  the  country,  the  hedges  with 
never  a  stone  out  of  place,  and  the  bars  always  up.  The 
ground  was  parcelled  off  in  such  bits  as  to  make  me  smile 
when  I  remembered  our  oAvn  wide  tracts  in  the  New  World. 
Here  waste  was  sin :  with  us  part  and  parcel  of  a  creed.  I 
marvelled,  too,  at  the  primness  and  solidity  of  the  houses  along 
the  road,  and  remarked  how  their  lines  belonged  rather  to  the 
landscape  than  to  themselves.  But  I  was  conscious  ever  of  a 
strange  wish  to  expand,  for  I  felt  as  tho'  I  were  in  the  land  of 
the  Liliputians,  and  the  thought  of  a  gallop  of  forty  miles  or 
so  over  these  honeycombed  fields  brought  me  to  a  laugh.  But 
I  was  yet  to  see  some  estates  of  the  gentry. 

I  had  it  on  my  tongue's  tip  to  ask  the  captain  whither  he 
was  taking  me,  yet  dared  not  intrude  on  the  sorrow  that  still 
gripped  him.  Time  and  time  we  met  people  plodding  along, 
some  of  them  nodding  uncertainly,  others  abruptly  taking  the 
far  side  of  the  pike,  and  every  encounter  drove  the  poison 
deeper  into  his  soul.  But  after  we  had  travelled  some  way, 
up  hill  and  down  dale,  he  vouchsafed  the  intelligence  that  we 
were  making  for  Arbigland,  Mr.  Craik's  seat  near  Dumfries, 
which  lies  on  the  Nith  twenty  miles  or  so  up  the  Solway  from 
Kirkcudbright.  On  that  estate  stood  the  cottage  where  John 
Paul  was  born,  and  where  his  mother  and  sisters  still  dwelt. 

195 


196  EICHAKD   CARVEL 

"I'll  juist  be  saying  guidbye,  Richard,"  he  said;  "and  leave 
them  a  bit  siller  I  hae  saved,  an'  syne  we'll  be  aff  to  London 
thegither,  for  Scotland's  no  but  a  cauld  kintra." 

"  You  are  going  to  London  with  me  ?  "  I  cried. 

"Ay,"  answered  he ;  "this  is  liame  nae  mair  for  John  Paul." 

I  made  bold  to  ask  how  the  John's  owners  had  treated  him. 

"  I  have  naught  to  complain  of,  laddie,"  he  answered ;  "  botli 
Mr.  Beck  and  Mr.  Currie  bore  the  matter  of  the  admiralty 
court  and  the  delay  like  the  gentlemen  they  are.  They  well 
know  that  I  am  hard  driven  when  I  resort  to  the  lash.  They 
were  both  sore  at  losing  me,  and  says  Mr.  Beck :  '  We'll  not 
soon  get  another  to  keep  the  brigantine  like  a  man-o'-war,  as 
did  you,  John  Paul.'  I  thanked  him,  and  told  him  I  had 
sworn  never  to  take  another  merchantman  out  of  the  Solway. 
And  I  will  keep  that  oath." 

He  sighed,  and  added  that  he  never  hoped  for  better  owners. 
In  token  of  which  he  drew  a  certificate  of  service  from  his 
pocket,  signed  by  Messrs.  Currie  and  Beck,  proclaiming  him 
the  best  master  and  supercargo  they  had  ever  had  in  their 
service.  I  perceived  that  talk  lightened  him,  and  led  him  on. 
I  inquired  how  he  had  got  the  JoJm. 

"  I  took  passage  on  her  from  Kingston,  laddie.  On  the  trip 
both  Captain  Macadam  and  the  chief  mate  died  of  the  fever. 
And  it  was  I,  the  passenger,  who  sailed  her  into  Kirkcudbright, 
tho'  I  had  never  been  more  than  a  chief  mate  before.  That 
is  scarce  three  years  gone,  when  I  was  just  turned  one  and 
twenty.  And  old  Mr.  Currie,  who  had  known  my  father,  was 
so  pleased  that  he  gave  me  the  ship.  I  had  been  chief  mate 
of  the  Two  Friends,  a  slaver  out  of  Kingston." 

"  And  so  you  were  in  that  trade  ! "  I  exclaimed. 

He  seemed  to  hesitate. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  and  sorry  I  am  to  say  it.  But  a  man 
must  live.  It  was  no  place  for  a  gentleman,  and  I  left  of 
my  own  accord.  Before  that,  I  was  on  a  slaver  out  of  White- 
haven." 

"  You  must  know  Whitehaven,  then." 

I  said  it  only  to  keep  the  talk  going,  but  I  remembered  the 
remark  long  after. 


THE  GARDENER'S  COTTAGE       197 

"I  do,"  said  he.  "'Tis  a  fair  sample  of  an  English  coast 
town.  And  I  have  often  thought,  in  the  event  of  war  with 
France,  how  easy  'twould  be  for  Louis's  cruisers  to  harry  the 
place,  and  an  hundred  like  it,  and  raise  such  a  terror  as  to 
keep  the  British  navy  at  home." 

I  did  not  know  at  the  time  that  this  was  the  inspiration 
of  an  admiral  and  of  a  genius.  The  subject  waned.  And  as 
I'amiliar  scenes  jogged  his  memory,  he  launched  into  Scotch 
and  reminiscence.  Every  barn  he  knew,  and  cairn  and  croft 
and  steeple  recalled  stories  of  his  boyhood. 

We  had  long  been  in  sight  of  Criffel,  towering  ahead  of 
us,  whose  summit  had  beckoned  for  cycles  to  Helvellyn  and 
Saddleback  looming  up  to  the  southward,  marking  the  won- 
derland of  the  English  lakes.  And  at  length,  after  some  five 
hours  of  stiff  walking,  we  saw  the  brown  Nith  below  us  going 
down  to  meet  the  Solway,  and  so  came  to  the  entrance  of  Mr. 
Craik's  place.  The  old  porter  recognized  Paul  by  a  mere 
shake  of  the  head  and  the  words,  "  Yere  back,  are  ye  ?  "  and 
a  lowering  of  his  bushy  white  eyebrows.  We  took  a  by-way 
to  avoid  the  manor-house,  which  stood  on  the  rising  ground 
twixt  us  and  the  mountain,  I  walking  close  to  John  Paul's 
shoulder  and  feeling  for  him  at  every  step.  Presently,  at 
a  turn  of  the  path,  we  were  brought  face  to  face  with  an 
elderly  gentleman  in  black,  and  John  Paul  stopped. 

"  Mr.  Craik  !  "  he  said,  removing  his  hat. 

But  the  gentleman  only  whistled  to  his  dogs  and  went  on.    * 

"  My  God,  even  he !  "  exclaimed  the  captain,  bitterly ;  "  even 
he,  who  thought  so  highly  of  my  father !  " 

A  hundred  yards  more  and  we  came  to  the  little  cottage 
nigh  hid  among  the  trees.  John  Paul  paiised  a  moment,  his 
hand  upon  the  latch  of  the  gate,  his  eyes  drinking  in  the 
familiar  picture.  The  light  of  day  was  dying  behind  Criffel, 
and  the  tiny  panes  of  the  cottage  windows  pulsed  with  the 
rosy  flame  on  the  hearth  within,  now  flaring,  and  again  deep- 
ening. He  sighed.  He  walked  with  unsteady  step  to  the 
door  and  pushed  it  open.  I  followed,  scarce  knowing  what 
I  did,  halted  at  the  threshold  and  drew  back,  for  I  had  been 
upon  holy  ground. 


198  EICHARD   CARVEL 

John  Paul  was  kneeling  upon  the  flags  by  the  ingleside, 
his  face  buried  on  the  open  Bible  in  his  mother's  lap.  Her 
snowy-white  head  was  bent  upon  his,  her  tears  running  fast, 
and  her  lips  moving  in  silent  prayer  to  Him  who  giveth  and 
taketh  away.  Verily,  here  in  this  humble  place  dwelt  a  love 
that  defied  the  hard  usage  of  a  hard  world ! 

After  a  space  he  came  to  the  door  and  called,  and  took  me 
by  the  hand,  and  I  went  in  with  him.  Though  his  eyes  were 
wet,  he  bore  himself  like  a  cavalier. 

''Mother,  this  is  Mr.  Richard  Carvel,  heir  to  Carv^el  Hall 
in  Maryland,  —  a  young  gentleman  whom  I  have  had  the 
honour  to  rescue  from  a  slaver." 

I  bowed  low,  such  was  my  respect  for  Dame  Paul,  and  she 
rose  and  curtseyed.  She  wore  a  widow's  cap  and  a  black 
gown,  and  I  saw  in  her  deep-lined  face  a  resemblance  to  her 
son. 

"  Madam,"  I  said,  the  title  coming  naturally,  "  I  owe  Cap- 
tain Paul  a  debt  I  can  never  repay." 

"  An'  him  but  a  laddie  !  "  she  cried.  "  I'm  thankfu',  John, 
I'm  thankfu'  for  his  mither  that  ye  saved  him." 

"  I  have  no  mother,  Madam  Paul,"  said  I,  "  and  my  father 
was  killed  in  the  French  war.  But  I  have  a  grandfather  who 
loves  me  dearly  as  I  love  him." 

Some  impulse  brought  her  forward,  and  she  took  both  my 
hands  in  her  own. 

"  Ye'll  forgive  an  auld  woman,  sir,"  she  said,  with  a  dignity 
that  matched  her  son's,  "but  ye're  sae  young,  an'  ye  hae  sic 
a  leuk  in  yere  bonny  gray  e'e  that  I  ken  ye'll  aye  be  a  true 
friend  o'  John's.  He's  been  a  guid  sin  to  me,  an'  ye  maunna 
reck  what  they  say  o'  him." 

When  now  I  think  of  the  triumph  John  Paul  has  achieved, 
of  the  scoffing  world  he  has  brought  to  his  feet,  I  cannot  but 
recall  that  sorrowful  evening  in  the  gardener's  cottage,  when 
a  son  was  restored  but  to  be  torn  away.  The  sisters  came  in 
from  their  day's  work,  —  both  well-favoured  lasses,  with  John's 
eyes  and  hair,  —  and  cooked  the  simple  meal  of  broth  and  por- 
ridge, and  the  fowl  they  had  kept  so  long  against  the  captain's 
home-coming.     He  carved  w^th  many  a  light  word  that  cost 


THE  GAKDENER'S  COTTAGE       199 

him  dear.  Did  Janet  reca'  the  simmer  nights  they  had  supped 
here,  wi'  the  bumclocks  bizzin'  ower  the  candles  ?  And  was 
Nancy,  the  cow,  still  i'  the  byre  ?  And  did  the  bees  still  give 
the  same  bonnie  hiney,  and  were  the  red  apples  still  in  the 
far  orchard  ?  Ay,  Meg  had  thocht  o'  him  that  autumn,  and 
ran  to  fetch  them  with  her  apron  to  her  face,  to  come  back 
smiling  through  her  tears.  So  it  went ;  and  often  a  lump 
would  rise  in  my  throat  that  I  could  not  eat,  famished  as  I 
was,  and  the  mother  and  sisters  scarce  touched  a  morsel  of 
the  feast. 

The  one  never  failing  test  of  a  son,  my  dears,  lies  in  his 
treatment  of  his  mother,  and  from  that  hour  forth  I  had  not 
a  doubt  of  John  Paul.  He  was  a  man  who  had  seen  the 
world  and  become,  in  more  than  one  meaning  of  the  word, 
a  gentleman.  Whatever  foibles  he  may  have  had,  he  brought 
no  conscious  airs  and  graces  to  this  lowly  place,  but  was  again 
the  humble  gardener's  boy. 

But  time  pressed,  as  it  ever  does.  The  hour  came  for  us 
to  leave,  John  Paul  firmly  refusing  to  remain  the  night  in 
a  house  that  belonged  to  Mr.  Craik.  Of  the  tenderness,  nay, 
of  the  pity  and  cruelty  of  that  parting,  I  have  no  power  to 
write.  We  knelt  with  bowed  heads  while  the  mother  prayed 
for  the  son,  expatriated,  whom  she  never  hoped  to  see  again 
on  this  earth.  She  gave  us  bannocks  of  her  own  baking,  and 
her  last  words  were  to  implore  me  always  to  be  a  friend  to 
John  Paul. 

Then  we  went  out  into  the  night  and  walked  all  the  way  to 
Dumfries  in  silence. 

We  lay  that  night  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Twa  Naigs,"  ^  where 
the  Pretender  himself  had  rested  in  the  Mars  year.^  Before  I 
went  to  bed  I  called  for  pen  and  paper,  and  by  the  light  of  a 
tallow  dip  sat  down  to  compose  a  letter  to  my  grandfather, 
telling  him  that  I  was  alive  and  well,  and  recounting  as  much 
of  my  adventures  as  I  could.  I  said  that  I  was  going  to  Lon- 
don,  where  I  would  see  Mr.   Dix,   and  would  take  passage 

1 1  have  not  been  able  to  discover  why  Mr.  Carvel  disguised  the  name  of 
this  hostlery.    It  is  probable  that  he  forgot  it.    He  kept  no  journal.  — D.  C.  C. 
2  The  year  1715. 


200  EICHAED   CARVEL 

thence  for  America.  I  prayed  that  he  had  been  able  to  bear 
up  against  the  ordeal  of  my  disappearance.  I  dwelt  upon  the 
obligations  I  was  under  to  John  Paul,  relating  the  misfortunes 
of  that  worthy  seaman  (which  he  so  little  deserved!).  And 
said  that  it  was  my  purpose  to  bring  him  to  Maryland  with 
me,  where  I  knew  Mr.  Carvel  would  reward  him  with  one  of 
his  ships,  explaining  that  he  would  accept  no  money.  But 
w^hen  it  came  to  accusing  Grafton  and  the  rector,  I  thought 
twice,  and  bit  the  end  of  the  feather.  The  chances  were  so 
great  that  my  grandfather  would  be  in  bed  and  under  the 
guardianship  of  my  uncle  that  I  forbore,  and  resolved  instead 
to  write  it  to  Captain  Daniel  at  my  first  opportunity. 

I  arose  early  to  discover  a  morning  gray  and  drear,  with  a 
mist  falling  to  chill  the  bones.  News  travels  apace  the  world 
over,  and  that  of  John  Paul's  home-coming  and  of  his  public 
renunciation  of  Scotland  at  the  "Hurcheon"  had  reached 
Dumfries  in  good  time,  substantiated  by  the  arrival  of  the 
teamster  with  the  chests  the  night  before.  I  descended  into 
the  courtyard  in  time  to  catch  the  captain  in  his  watchet-blue 
frock  haggling  with  the  landlord  for  a  chaise,  the  two  of  them 
surrounded  by  a  muttering  crowd  anxious  for  a  glimpse  of  Mr. 
Craik's  gardener's  son,  for  he  had  become  a  nine-day  sensation 
to  the  country  round  about.  But  John  Paul  minded  them  not 
so  much  as  a  swarm  of  flies,  and  the  teamster's  account  of  the 
happenings  at  Kirkcudbright  had  given  them  so  wholesome  a 
fear  of  his  speech  and  presence  as  to  cause  them  to  misdoubt 
their  own  wit,  which  is  saying  a  deal  of  Scotchmen.  But 
when  the  bargain  had  been  struck  and  John  Paul  gone  with 
the  'ostler  to  see  to  his  chests,  mine  host  thought  it  a  pity  not 
to  have  a  fall  out  of  me. 

"  So  ye  be  the  Buckskin  laird,"  he  said,  with  a  wink  at  a 
leering  group  of  farmers;  "ye  hae  braw  gentles  in  America." 

He  was  a  man  of  sixty  or  thereabout,  with  a  shrewd  but  not 
unkindly  face  that  had  something  familiar  in  it. 

"  You  have  discernment  indeed  to  recognize  a  gentleman  in 
Scotch  clothes,"  I  replied,  turning  the  laugh  on  him. 

"  Dinna  rai^e  ae  Buckskin,  Mr.  Rawlinson,"  said  a  man  in 
corduroy. 


THE  GAEDENER'S  COTTAGE       201 

*'  Rawlinson  !  "  I  exclaimed  at  random,  "  there  is  one  of  your 
name  in  the  colonies  who  knows  his  station  better." 

"Trowkt!"  cried  mine  host,  "ye  ken  Ivie  o'  Maryland, — 
Ivie  my  brither  ?  " 

"  He  is  my  grandfather's  miller  at  Carvel  Hall,"  I  said. 

"Syne  ye  maun  be  nane  ither  than  Mr.  Richard  Carvel. 
Yere  servan',  Mr.  Carvel,"  and  he  made  me  a  low  bow,  to  the 
great  dropjnng  of  jaws  round  about,  and  led  me  into  the  inn. 
With  trembling  hands  he  took  a  packet  from  his  cabinet  and 
showed  me  the  letters,  twenty-three  in  all,  which  Ivie  had 
written  home  since  he  had  gone  out  as  the  King's  passenger 
in  '45.  The  sight  of  them  brought  tears  to  my  eyes  and 
carried  me  out  of  the  Scotch  mist  back  to  dear  old  Maryland. 
I  had  no  trouble  in  convincing  mine  host  that  I  was  the  lad 
eulogized  in  the  scrawls,  and  he  put  hand  on  the  very  sheet 
which  announced  my  birth,  nineteen  years  since,  —  the  fourth 
generation  of  Carvels  Ivie  had  known. 

So  it  came  that  the  captain  and  I  got  the  best  chaise  and 
pair  in  place  of  the  worst,  and  sat  down  to  a  breakfast  such  as 
was  prepared  only  for  my  Lord  Selkirk  when  he  passed  that 
way,  while  I  told  the  landlord  of  his  brother ;  and  as  I  talked 
I  remembered  the  day  I  had  caught  the  arm  of  the  mill  and 
gone  the  round,  to  find  that  Ivie  had  written  of  that,  too ! 

After  that  our  landlord  would  not  hear  of  a  reckoning.  I 
might  stay  a  month,  a  year,  at  the  "  Twa  Naigs  "  if  I  wished. 
As  for  John  Paul,  who  seemed  my  friend,  he  would  say  noth- 
ing, only  to  advise  me  privately  that  the  man  w^as  queer  com- 
pany, shaking  his  head  when  I  defended  him.  He  came  to  me 
with  ten  guineas,  which  he  pressed  me  to  take  for  Ivie's  sake, 
and  repay  when  occasion  offered.  I  thanked  him,  but  was  of 
no  mind  to  accept  money  from  one  who  thought  ill  of  my 
benefactor. 

The  refusal  of  these  recalled  the  chaise,  and  I  took  the 
trouble  to  expostulate  with  the  captain  on  that  score,  pointing 
out  as  delicately  as  I  might  that,  as  he  had  brought  me  to 
Scotland,  I  held  it  within  my  right  to  incur  the  expense  of  the 
trip  to  London,  and  that  I  intended  to  reimburse  him  when  I 
saw  Mr.  Dix.     For  I  knew  that  his  wallet  was  not  over  full, 


202  EICHARD   CARVEL 

since  he  had  left  the  half  of  his  savings  with  his  mother. 
Much  to  my  secret  delight,  he  agreed  to  this  as  within  the 
compass  of  a  gentleman's  acceptance.  Had  he  not,  I  had  the 
full  intention  of  leaving  him  to  post  it  alone,  and  of  offering 
myself  to  the  master  of  the  first  schooner. 

Despite  the  rain,  and  the  painful  scenes  gone  through  but 
yesterday,  and  the  sour-looking  ring  of  men  and  women 
gathered  to  see  the  start,  I  was  in  high  spirits  as  we  went  spin- 
ning down  the  Carlisle  road,  with  my  heart  leaping  to  the 
crack  of  the  postilion's  whip. 

I  was  going  to  London  and  to  Dorothy ! 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ON    THE    ROAD 

Many  were  the  ludicrous  incidents  we  encountered  on  our 
journey  to  London.  As  long  as  I  live,  I  shall  never  forget 
John  Paul's  alighting  upon  the  bridge  of  the  Sark  to  rid  him- 
self of  a  mighty  farewell  address  to  Scotland  he  had  been  com- 
posing upon  the  road.  And  this  he  delivered  with  such  appall- 
ing voice  and  gesture  as  to  frighten  to  a  standstill  a  chaise  on 
the  English  side  of  the  stream,  containing  a  young  gentleman 
in  a  scarlet  coat  and  a  laced  hat,  and  a  young  lady  who  sobbed 
as  we  passed  them.  They  were,  no  doubt,  running  to  Gretna 
Green  to  be  married. 

Captain  Paul,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  man  of  moods,  and 
strangely  affected  by  ridicule.  And  this  we  had  in  plenty 
upon  the  road.  Landlords,  grooms,  and  'ostlers,  and  even  our 
own  post-boys,  laughed  and  jested  coarsely  at  his  sky-blue 
frock,  and  their  sallies  angered  him  beyond  all  reason,  while 
they  afforded  me  so  great  an  amusement  that  more  than  once 
I  was  on  the  edge  of  a  serious  falling-out  with  him  as  a  conse- 
quence of  my  merriment.  Usually,  when  we  alighted  from  our 
vehicle,  the  expression  of  mine  host  would  sour,  and  his  sir 
would  shift  to  a  master;  while  his  servants  would  go  trooping 
in  again,  with  many  a  coarse  fling  that  they  would  get  no  vails 
from  such  as  Ave.  And  once  we  were  invited  into  the  kitchen. 
He  would  be  sour  for  half  a  day  at  a  spell  after  a  piece  of  in- 
solence out  of  the  common,  and  then  deliver  me  a  solemn  lecture 
upon  the  advantages  of  birth  in  a  manor.  Then  his  natural 
buoyancy  would  lift  him  agaiii,  and  he  would  be  in  childish 
ecstasies  at  the  prospect  of  getting  to  London,  and  seeing  the 
great  world ;  and  I  began  to  think  that  he  secretly  cherished 

203 


204  RICHARD   CARVEL 

the  hope  of  meeting  some  of  its  votaries.  For  I  had  told  him, 
casually  as  possible,  that  I  had  friends  in  Arlington  Street, 
where  I  remembered  the  Manners  were  established. 

"  Arlington  Street !  "  he  repeated,  rolling  the  words  over  his 
tongue ;  "  it  has  a  fine  sound,  laddie,  a  fine  sound.  That  street 
must  be  the  very  acme  of  fashion." 

I  laughed,  and  replied  that  I  did  not  know.  And  at  the 
ordinary  of  the  next  inn  we  came  to,  he  took  occasion  to  men- 
tion to  me,  in  a  louder  voice  than  was  necessary,  that  I  would 
do  well  to  call  in  Arlington  Street  as  we  went  into  town.  So 
far  as  I  could  see,  the  remark  did  not  compel  any  increase  of 
respect  from  our  fellow-diners. 

Upon  more  than  one  point  I  was  worried.  Often  and  often 
I  reflected  that  some  hitch  might  occur  to  prevent  my  getting 
money  promptly  from  Mr.  Dix.  Days  would  perchance  elapse 
before  I  could  find  the  man  in  such  a  great  city  as  London  ;  he 
might  be  out  of  town  at  this  season,  Easter  being  less  than  a 
se'nnight  away.  For  I  had  heard  my  grandfather  say  that  the 
elder  Mr.  Dix  had  a  house  in  some  merchant's  suburb,  and 
loved  to  play  at  being  a  squire  before  he  died.  Again  (my 
heart  stood  at  the  thought),  the  Manners  might  be  gone  back 
to  America.  I  cursed  the  stubborn  pride  which  had  led  the 
captain  to  hire  a  post-chaise,  when  the  wagon  had  served  us 
so  much  better,  and  besides  relieved  him  of  the  fusillade  of 
ridicule  he  got  travelling  as  a  gentleman.  But  such  reflec- 
tions always  ended  in  my  upbraiding  myself  for  blaming  him 
whose  generosity  had  rescued  me  from  perhaps  a  life-long 
misery. 

But,  on  the  whole,  we  rolled  southward  happily,  between 
high  walls  and  hedges,  past  trim  gardens  and  fields  and 
meadows,  and  I  marvelled  at  the  regular,  park-like  look  of 
the  country,  as  though  stamped  from  one  design  continually 
recurring,  like  our  butter  at  Carvel  Hall.  The  roads  were 
sometimes  good,  and  sometimes  as  execrable  as  a  colonial 
byway  in  winter,  with  mud  up  to  the  axles.  And  yet,  my 
heart  went  out  to  this  country,  the  home  of  my  ancestors. 
Spring  was  at  hand ;  the  ploughboys  whistled  between  the  fur- 
rows, the  larks  circled  overhead,  and  the  lilacs  were  cautiously 


ON   THE   ROAD  205 

pushing  forth  their  noses.  The  air  was  heavy  with  the  per- 
fume of  living  things. 

The  welcome  we  got  at  our  various  stopping-places  was  often 
scanty  indeed,  and  more  than  once  we  were  told  to  go  farther 
down  the  street,  that  the  inn  was  full.  And  I  may  as  well 
confess  that  my  mind  was  troubled  about  John  Paul.  De- 
spite all  I  could  say;  he  would  go  to  tJtie  best  hotels  in  the 
larger  towns,  declaring  that  there  we  should  meet  the  people 
of  fashion.  Nor  was  his  eagerness  damped  when  he  discovered 
that  such  people  never  came  to  the  ordinary,  but  were  served 
in  their  own  rooms  by  their  own  servants. 

''  I  shall  know  them  yet,"  he  would  vow,  as  we  started  off  of 
a  morning,  after  having  seen  no  more  of  my  Lord  than  his  liver- 
ies below  stairs.  "  Am  I  not  a  gentleman  in  all  but  birth,  Rich- 
ard ?  And  that  is  a-  difficulty  many  before  me  have  overcome. 
I  have  the  classics,  and  the  history,  and  the  poets.  And  the 
French  language,  though  I  have  never  made  the  grand  tour.  I 
flatter  myself  that  my  tone  might  be  worse.  By  the  help  of 
your  friends,  I  shall  have  a  title  or  two  for  acquaintances  be- 
fore I  leave  London ;  and  when  my  money  is  gone,  there  is  a 
shipowner  I  know  of  who  will  give  me  employment,  if  I  have 
not  obtained  preferment." 

The  desire  to  meet  persons  of  birth  was  near  to  a  mania 
with  him.  And  I  had  not  the  courage  to  dampen  his  hopes. 
But,  inexperienced  as  I  was,  I  knew  the  kind  better  than  he, 
and  understood  that  it  was  easier  for  a  camel  to  enter  the  eye 
of  a  needle,  than  for  John  Paul  to  cross  the  thresholds  of  the 
great  houses  of  London.  The  way  of  adventurers  is  hard,  and 
he  could  scarce  lay  claim  then  to  a  better  name. 

"We  shall  go  to  Maryland  together.  Captain  Paul,"  I  said, 
"  and  waste  no  time  upon  London  save  to  see  Vauxhall,  and 
the  opera,  and  St.  James's  and  the  Queen's  House  and  the 
Tower,  and  Parliament,  and  perchance  his  Majesty  himself," 
I  added,  attempting  merriment,  for  the  notion  of  seeing  Dolly 
only  to  leave  her  gave  me  a  pang.  And  the  captain  knew 
nothing  of  Dolly. 

"So,  Richard,  you  fear  I  shall  disgrace  you,"  he  said  re- 
proachfully.    "  Know,  sir,  that  I  have  pride  enough  and  to 


206  RICHARD  CARVEL 

spare.  That  I  can  make  friends  without  going  to  Arlington 
Street." 

I  was  ready  to  cry  with  vexation  at  this  chiklish  speech. 

"  And  a  time  will  come  when  they  shall  know  me,"  he  went 
on.     "  If  they  insult  me  now  they  shall  pay  dearly  for  it." 

"  My  dear  captain,"  I  cried ;  "  nobody  will  insult  you,  and 
least  of  all  my  friends,  the  Manners."  I  had  my  misgivings 
about  little  Mr.  Marmaduke.  "  But  we  are,  neither  of  us, 
equipped  for  a  London  season.  I  am  but  an  unknown  provin- 
cial, and  you  —  "     I  paused  for  words. 

For  a  sudden  realization  had  come  upon  me  that  our  posi- 
tions were  now  reversed.  It  seemed  strange  that  I  should  be 
interpreting  the  world  to  this  man  of  power. 

"  And  I  ?  "  he  repeated  bitterly. 

"  You  have  first  to  become  an  admiral,"  I  replied,  with  in- 
spii'ation;  "Drake  was  once  a  common  seaman." 

He  did  not  answer.  But  that  evening  as  we  came  into  Wind- 
sor, I  perceived  that  he  had  not  abandoned  his  intentions.  The 
long  light  flashed  on  the  peaceful  Thames,  and  the  great,  'grim 
castle  was  gilded  all  over  its  western  side. 

The  captain  leaned  out  of  the  window. 

"  Postilion,"  he  called,  "  which  inn  here  is  mcst  favoured  by 
gentlemen  ?  " 

"  The  '  Castle,' "  said  the  boy,  turning  in  his  saddle  to  grin 
at  me.  ''  But  if  I  might  be  so  bold  as  to  advise  your  honour, 
the  '  Swan '  is  a  comfortable  house,  and  well  attended." 

"Know  your  place,  sirrah,"  shouted  the  captain,  angrily, 
"  and  drive  us  to  the  '  Castle.'  " 

The  boy  snapped  his  whip  disdainfully,  and  presently  pulled 
us  up  at  the  inn,  our  chaise  covered  with  the  mud  of  three  par- 
ticular showers  we  had  run  through  that  day.  And,  as  usual, 
the  landlord,  thinking  he  was  about  to  receive  quality,  came 
scraping  to  the  chaise  door,  only  to  turn  with  a  gesture  of  dis- 
gust when  he  perceived  John  Paul's  sea-boxes  tied  on  behind, 
and  the  costiime  of  that  hero,  as  well  as  my  own. 

The  captain  demanded  a  room.  But  mine  host  had  turned 
his  back,  when  suddenly  a  thought  must  have  struck  him,  foi 
he  wheeled  again. 


ON   THE   ROAD  207 

"  Stay,"  he  cried,  glancing  suspiciously  at  the  sky-blue  frock-, 
"  if  you  are  Mr.  Dyson's  courier,  I  have  reserved  a  suite." 

This  same  John  Paul,  who  was  like  iron  with  mob  and  mu- 
tiny, was  pitiably  helpless  before  such  a  prop  of  the  aristocracy. 
He  flew  into  a  rage,  and  rated  the  landlord  in  Scotch  and  Eng- 
lish, and  I  was  fain  to  put  my  tongue  in  my  cheek  and  turn  my 
back  that  my  laughter  might  not  anger  him  the  more. 

And  so  I  came  face  to  face  with  another  smile,  behind  a 
spying-glass,  —  a  smile  so  cynical  and  unpleasant  withal  that 
my  own  was  smothered.  A  tall  and  thin  gentleman,  who  had 
come  out  of  the  inn  without  a  hat,  was  surveying  the  dispute 
with  a  keen  delight.  He  was  past  the  middle  age.  His 
clothes  bore  that  mark  which  distinguishes  his  world  from  the 
other,  but  his  features  were  so  striking  as  to  hold  my  attention 
unwittingly. 

After  a  while  he  withdrew  his  glass,  cast  one  look  at  me 
which  might  have  meant  anything,  and  spoke  up. 

"  Pray,  my  good  Goble,  why  all  this  f ol-de-rol  about  admit- 
ting a  gentleman  to  your  house  ?  " 

I  scarce  know  which  was  the  more  astonished,  the  landlord, 
John  Paul,  or  I.     Goble  bowed  at  the  speaker. 

"  A  gentleman,  your  honour !  "  he  gasped.  "  Your  honour  is 
joking  again.  Surely  this  trumpery  Scotchman  in  Jews'  finery 
is  no  gentleman,  nor  the  'longshore  lout  he  has  got  with  him. 
They  may  go  to  the  '  Swan.' " 

"  Jews'  finery  ! "  shouted  the  captain,  with  his  fingers  on  his 
sword. 

But  the  stranger  held  up  a  hand  deprecatingly. 

"  'Pon  my  oath,  Goble,  I  gave  you  credit  for  more  penetra- 
tion," he  drawled;  "you  maybe  right  about  the  Scotchman, 
but  your  'longshore  lout  has  had  both  birth  and  breeding,  or  I 
know  nothing." 

John  Paul,  who  was  in  the  act  of  bowing  to  the  speaker, 
remained  petrified  with  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  entirely  dis- 
comfited. The  landlord  forsook  him  instantly  for  me,  then 
stole  a  glance  at  his  guest  to  test  his  seriousness,  and  looked 
at  my  face  to  see  how  greatly  it  were  at  variance  with  my 
clothes.     The  temptation  to  lay  hands  on  the  cringing  little 


208  RICHAED   CAEVEL 

toadeater  grew  too  strong  for  me,  and  I  picked  him  up  by  tlie 
scruff  of  the  collar,  —  he  was  all  skin  and  bones,  —  and  spun 
him  round  like  a  corpse  upon  a  gibbet,  while  he  cried  mercy  in 
a  voice  to  wake  the  dead.  The  slim  gentleman  under  the  sign 
laughed  until  he  held  his  sides,  with  a  heartiness  that  jarred 
upon  me.     It  did  not  seem  to  fit  him. 

"  By  Hercules  and  Vulcan,"  he  cried,  when  at  last  I  had  set 
the  landlord  down,  "  what  an  arm  and  back  the  lad  has  !  He 
must  have  the  best  in  the  house,  Goble,  and  sup  with  me." 

Goble  pulled  himself  together. 

"  And  he  is  your  honour's  friend,"  he  began,  with  a  scowl. 

"Ay,  he  is  my  friend,  I  tell  you/'  retorted  the  important 
personage,  impatiently. 

The  innkeeper,  sulky,  half-satisfied,  yet  fearing  to  offend, 
welcomed  us  with  what  grace  he  could  muster,  and  we  were 
shown  to  "  The  Fox  and  the  Grapes,"  a  large  room  in  the  rear 
of  the  house. 

John  Paul  had  not  spoken  since  the  slim  gentleman  had 
drawn  the  distinction  between  us,  and  I  knew  that  the  affront 
was  rankling  in  his  breast.  He  cast  himself  into  a  chair  with 
such  an  air  of  dejection  as  made  me  pity  him  from  my  heart. 
But  I  had  no  consolation  to  offer.  His  first  words,  far  from 
being  the  torrent  of  protest  I  looked  for,  almost  startled  me 
into  laughter. 

"  He  can  be  nothing  less  than  a  duke,"  said  the  captain. 
"Ah,  Richard,  see  what  it  is  to  be  a  gentleman ! " 

"  Fiddlesticks  !.  I  had  rather  own  your  powers  than  the  best 
title  in  Engla.nd,"  I  retorted  sharply. 

He  shook  his  head  sorrowfully,  which  made  me  wonder  the 
more  that  a  man  of  his  ability  should  be  unhappy  without 
this  one  bauble  attainment. 

"  I  shall  begin  to  believe  the  philosophers  have  the  right  of 
it,"  he  remarked  presently.  "  Have  you  ever  read  anything 
of  Monsieur  Eousseau's,  EicJiard  ?  " 

The  words  were  scarce  out  of  his  mouth  when  we  heard  a 
loud  rap  on  the  door,  which  I  opened  to  discover  a  Swiss 
fellow  in  a  private  livery,  come  to  say  that  his  master  begged 
the  young  gentleman  would   sup  with  him.     The  man  stood 


ON  THE  KOAD  209 

immovable  while  he  delivered  this  message,  and  put  an  impu- 
dent emphasis  upon  the  gentleman. 

"Say  to  your  master,  whoever  he  may  be,"  I  replied,  in 
some  heat  at  the  man's  sneer,  "  that  I  am  travelling  with  Cap- 
tain Paul.     That  any  invitation  to  me  must  include  him." 

The  lackey  stood  astounded  at  my  answer,  as  though  he  had 
not  heard  aright.  Then  he  retired  with  less  assurance  than 
he  had  come,  and  John  Paul  sprang  to  his  feet  and  laid  his 
hands  upon  my  shoulders,  as  was  his  wont  when  affected.  He 
reproached  himself  for  having  misjudged  me,  and  added  a  deal 
more  that  I  have  forgotten. 

"  And  to  think,"  he  cried,  "  that  you  have  forgone  supping 
with  a  nobleman  on  my  account ! " 

"  Pish,  captain,  'tis  no  great  denial.  His  Lordship  —  if  Lord- 
ship he  is  —  is  stranded  in  an  inn,  overcome  Avith  ennui,  and 
must  be  amused.     That  is  all." 

Nevertheless  I  think  the  good  captain  was  distinctly  dis- 
appointed, not  alone  because  I  gave  up  what  in  his  opinion  was 
a  great  advantage,  but  likewise  because  I  could  have  regaled 
him  on  my  return  with  an  account  of  the  meal.  For  it  must 
be  borne  in  mind,  my  dears,  that  those  days  are  not  these,  nor 
that  country  this  one.  And  in  judging  Captain  Paul  it  must 
be  remembered  that  rank  inspired  a  vast  respect  when  King 
G-eorge  came  to  the  throne.  It  can  never  be  said  of  John 
Paul  that  he  lacked  either  independence  or  spirit.  But  a 
nobleman  was  a  nobleman  then. 

So  when  presently  the  gentleman  himself  appeared  smiling 
at  our  door,  which  his  servant  had  left  open,  we  both  of  us 
rose  up  in  astonishment  and  bowed  very  respectfullj^,  and  my 
face  burned  at  the  thought  of  the  message  I  had  sent  him. 
Por,  after  all,  the  captain  was  but  twenty-three  and  I  nineteen, 
and  the  distinguished  unknown  at  least  fifty.  He  took  a  pinch 
of  snuff  and  brushed  his  waistcoat  before  he  spoke. 

"Egad,"  said  he,  with  good  nature,  looking  up  at  me, 
"Mohammed  was  a  philosopher,  and  so  am  I,  and  come  to  the 
mountain.  'Tis  worth  crossing  an  inn  in  these  times  to  see  a 
young  man  whose  strength  has  not  been  wasted  upon  foppery. 
May  I  ask  your  name,  sir  ?  " 


210  EICHAED   CARVEL 

"  E,ichard  Carvel/'  I  answered,  much  put  aback. 

"  All,  Carvel,"  lie  repeated ;  "  I  know  tliree  or  four  of  that 
name.  Perhaps  you  are  Robert  Carvel's  sou,  of  Yorkshire. 
But  what  the  devil  do  you  do  in  such  clothes  ?  I  was  resolved 
to  have  you  though  I  am  forced  to  take  a  dozen  watchet-blue 
mountebanks  in  the  bargain." 

"  Sir,  I  warn  you  not  to  insult  my  friend,"  I  cried,  in  a 
temper  again. 

"There,  there,  not  so  loud,  I  beg  you,"  said  he,  with  a 
gesture.  ''Hot  as  pounded  pepper,  —  but  all  things  are  the 
better  for  a  touch  of  it.  I  had  no  intention  of  insulting  the 
worthy  man,  I  give  my  word.  I  must  have  my  joke,  sir.  No 
harm  meant."  And  he  nodded  at  John  Paul,  who  looked  as  if 
he  would  sink  through  the  floor.  "  Robert  Carvel  is  as  testy 
as  the  devil  with  the  gout,  and  you  are  not  unlike  him  in 
feature." 

"■  He  is  no  relation  of  mine,"  I  replied,  undecided  whether 
to  laugh  or  be  angry.  And  then  I  added,  for  I  was  very 
young,  "  I  am  an  American,  and  heir  to  Carvel  Hall  in  Mary- 
land." 

"Lord,  lord,  I  might  have  known,"  exclaimed  he.  "Once 
I  had  the  honour  of  dining  with  your  Dr.  Franklin,  from 
Pennsylvania.  He  dresses  for  all  the  world  like  you,  only 
worse,  and  wears  a  hat  I  would  not  be  caught  under  at  Bag- 
nigge  Wells,  were  I  so  imprudent  as  to  go  there." 

"Dr.  Franklin  has  weightier  matters  than  hats  to  occupy 
him,  sir,"  I  retorted.     For  I  was  determined  to  hold  my  own. 

He  made  a  French  gesture,  a  shrug  of  his  thin  shoulders, 
which  caused  me  to  suspect  he  was  not  always  so  good-natured. 

"  Dr.  Franklin  would  better  have  stuck  to  his  newspaper, 
my  young  friend,"  said  he.  "  But  I  like  your  appearance  too 
well  to  quarrel  with  you,  and  we'll  have  no  politics  before 
eating.  Come,  gentlemen,  come !  Let  us  see  what  Goble  has 
left  after  his  shaking." 

He  struck  off  with  something  of  a  painful  gait,  which  he 
explained  was  from  the  gout.  And  presently  we  arrived  at 
his  parlour,  where  supper  was  set  out  for  us.  I  had  not  tasted 
its  equal  since  I  left  Maryland.     We  sat  down  to  a  capon 


ON   THE  EOAD  211 

stuffed  with  eggs,  and  dainty  sausages,  and  hot  rolls,  such  as 
we  had  at  home;  and  a  wine  which  had  cobvvebbed  and  mel- 
lowed under  the  Castle  Inn  for  better  than  twenty  years.  The 
personage  did  not  drink  wine.  He  sent  his  servant  to  quarrel 
with  Goble  because  he  had  not  been  given  iced  water.  While 
he  was  tapping  on  the  table  I  took  occasion  to  observe  him. 
His  was  a  physiognomy  to  strike  the  stranger,  not  by  reason  of 
its  nobility,  but  because  of  its  oddity.  He  had  a  prodigious 
length  of  face,  the  nose  long  in  proportion,  but  not  prominent. 
The  eyes  were  dark,  very  bright,  and  wide  apart,  with  little 
eyebrows  dabbed  over  them  at  a  slanting  angle.  The  thin- 
lipped  mouth  rather  pursed  up,  which  made  his  smile  the  con- 
tradiction it  Avas.  In  short,  my  dears,  while  I  do  not  lay  claim 
to  the  reading  of  character,  it  required  no  great  astuteness  to 
perceive  the  scholar,  the  man  of  the  world,  and  the  ascetic — • 
and  all  affected.  His  conversation  bore  out  the  summary.  It 
astonished  us.  It  encircled  the  earth,  embraced  history  and 
letters  since  the  world  began.  And  added  to  all  this,  he 
had  a  thousand  anecdotes  on  his  tongue's  tip.  His  words  he 
chose  with  too  great  a  nicety ;  his  sentences  were  of  a  foreign 
formation,  twisted  around;  and  his  stories  were  illustrated 
with  French  gesticulations.  He  threw  in  quotations  galore,  in 
Latin,  and  French,  and  English,  until  the  captain  began  casting 
me  odd,  uncomfortable  looks,  as  though  he  wished  himself 
well  out  of  the  entertainment.  Indeed,  poor  John  Paul's  per- 
turbation amused  me  more  than  the  gentleman's  anecdotes. 
To  be  ill  at  ease  is  discouraging  to  any  one,  but  it  Avas 
peculiarly  fatal  with  the  captain.  This  arch-aristocrat  dazzled 
him.  When  he  attempted  to  follow  in  the  same  vein  he  would 
get  lost.  And  his  really  considerable  learning  counted  for 
nothing.  He  reached  the  height  of  his  mortification  when  the 
slim  gentleman  dropped  his  eyelids  and  began  to  yawn.  I 
was  wickedly  delighted.  He  could  not  have  been  better  met. 
Another  such  encounter,  and  I  would  warrant  the  captain's 
illusions  concerning  the  gentry  to  go  up  in  smoke.  Then  he 
might  come  to  some  notion  of  his  own  true  powers.  As  for 
me,  I  enjoyed  the  supper  which  our  host  had  insisted  upon  our 
partaking,  drank  his  wine,  and  paid  him  very  little  attention. 


212  RICHAED   CARVEL 

"  May  I  make  so  bold  as  to  ask,  sir,  whether  you  are  a  patron 
of  literature  ?  "  said  the  captain,  at  length. 

"A  very  poor  patron,  my  dear  man,"  was  the  answer. 
<' Merely  a  humble  worshipper  at  the  shrine.  And  I  might 
say  that  I  partake  of  its  benefits  as  much  as  a  gentleman  may. 
And  yet,"  he  added,  with  a  laugh  and  a  cough,  "those  silly 
newspapers  and  magazines  insist  on  calling  me  a  literary  man." 

"And  now  that  you  have  indulged  in  a  question,  and  the 
claret  is  coming  on,"  said  he,  "  perhaps  you  will  tell  me  some- 
thing of  yourself,  ]\Ir.  Carvel,  and  of  your  friend,  Captain 
Paul.  And  how  you  come  to  be  so  far  from  home."  And  he 
settled  himself  comfortably  to  listen,  as  a  man  who  has  bought 
his  right  to  an  opera  box. 

Here  was  my  chance.  And  I  resolved  that  if  I  did  not 
further  enlighten  John  Paul,  it  would  be  no  fault  of  mine. 

"  Sir,"  I  replied,  in  as  dry  a  monotone  as  I  could  assume,  "  I 
was  kidnapped  by  the  connivance  of  some  unscrupulous  per- 
sons in  my  colony,  who  had  designs  upon  my  grandfather's 
fortune.  I  was  taken  abroad  in  a  slaver  and  carried  down  to 
the  Caribbean  seas,  when  I  soon  discovered  that  the  captain 
and  his  crew  were  nothing  less  than  pirates.  For  one  day  all 
hands  got  into  a  beastly  state  of  drunkenness,  and  the  captain 
raised  the  skull  and  cross-bones,  which  he  had  handy  in  his 
chest.  I  was  forced  to  climb  the  main  rigging  in  order  to 
escape  being  hacked  to  pieces." 

He  sat  bolt  upright,  those  little  eyebrows  of  his  gone  up 
full  half  an  inch,  and  he  raised  his  thin  hands  Avith  an  air  of 
incredulity.  John  Paul  was  no  less  astonished  at  my  little 
ruse. 

"Holy  Saint  Clement!"  exclaimed  our  host;  "pirates! 
This  begins  to  have  a  flavour  indeed.  And  yet  you  do  not 
seem  to  be  a  lad  with  an  imagination.  Egad,  Mr.  Carvel,  I  had 
put  you  down  for  one  who  might  say,  with  Alceste:  '  Etre 
franc  et  sincere  est  mon  plus  grand  talent.'  But  pray  go  on,  sir. 
You  have  but  to  call  for  pen  and  ink  to  rival  Mr.  Fielding." 

With  that  I  pushed  back  my  chair,  got  up  from  the  table, 
and  made  him  a  bow.  And  the  captain,  at  last  seeing  my 
drift,  did  the  same. 


ON  THE  EOAD  213 

"I  am  not  used  at  home  to  liave  my  word  doubted,  sir,"  I 
said.  "Sir,  your  humble  servant.  I  wish  you  a  very  good 
evening."  He  rose  precipitately,  crying  out  from  his  gout,  and 
laid  a  hand  upon  my  arm. 

"  Pray,  Mr.  Carvel,  pray,  sir,  be  seated,"  he  said,  in  some  agi- 
tation. "  Remember  that  the  story  is  unusual,  and  that  I  have 
never  clapped  eyes  on  you  until  to-night.  Are  all  3^oung  gentle- 
men from  Maryland  so  fiery  ?  But  I  should  have  known  from 
your  face  that  you  are  incapable  of  deceit.  Pray  be  seated, 
captain." 

I  was  persuaded  to  go  on,  not  a  little  delighted  that  I  had 
scored  my  point,  and  broken  down  his  mask  of  affectation  and 
careless  cynicism.  I  told  my  story,  leaving  out  the  family 
history  involved,  and  he  listened  with  every  mark  of  attention 
and  interest.  Indeed,  to  my  surprise,  he  began  to  show  some 
enthusiasm,  of  which  sensation  I  had  not  believed  him  capable. 

"  What  a  find  !  what  a  find !  "  he  continued  to  exclaim,  when 
I  had  finished.     "  And  true.     You  say  it  is  true,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  " 

''  Sir ! "  I  replied,  "  I  thought  we  had  thrashed  that  out." 

"  Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure.  I  beg  pardon,"  said  he.  And  then 
to  his  servant:  "Colomb,  is  my  writing-tablet  unpacked?" 

I  was  more  mystified  than  ever  as  to  his  identity.  Was  he 
going  to  put  the  story  in  a  magazine  ? 

After  that  he  seemed  plainly  anxious  to.  be  rid  of  us.  I 
bade  him  good  night,  and  he  grasped  my  hand  warmly 
enough.  Then  he  turned  to  the  captain  in  his  most  conde- 
scending manner.  But  a  great  change  had  come  over  John 
Paul.  He  was  ever  quick  to  see  and  to  learn,  and  I  rejoiced 
to  remark  that  he  did  not  bow  over  the  hand,  as  he  might  have 
done  two  hours  since.  He  was  again  Captain  Paul,  the  man, 
who  fought  his  way  on  his  own  merits.  He  held  himself  as 
tho'  he* was  once  more  pacing  the  deck  of  the  John. 

The  slim  gentleman  poured  the  width  of  a  finger  of  claret  in 
his  glass,  soused  it  with  water,  and  held  it  up. 

"Here's  to  your  future,  my  good  captain,"  he  said,  "and  to 
Mr.  Carvel's  safe  arrival  home  again.  When  you  get  to  town, 
Mr.  Carvel,  don't  fail  to  go  to  Davenport,  who  makes  clothes  for 
most  of  us  at  Almack's,  and  let  him  remodel  you.     I  wish  to 


214  RICHAED   CARVEL 

God  he  might  get  hold  of  your  doctor.  And  put  up  at  the 
Star  and  Garter  in  Pall  Mall.  I  take  it  that  you  have  friends 
in  London." 

I  replied  that  I  had.     But  he  did  not  push  the  inquiry. 

"  You  should  write  out  this  history  for  your  grandchildren, 
Mr.  Carvel,"  he  added,  as  he  bade  his  Swiss  light  us  to  our 
room.     ''A  strange  yarn  indeed,  captain." 

"And  therefore,"  said  the  captain,  coolly,  "as  a  stranger 
give  it  welcome. 

"  '  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy.'  " 

Had  a  meteor  struck  at  the  gentleman's  feet,  he  could  not 
have  been  more  taken  aback. 

"What!  What's  this?"  he  cried.  "You  quote  Hamlet! 
And  who  the  devil  are  you,  sir,  that  you  know  my  name  ?  " 

"Your  name,  sir!"  exclaims  the  captain,  in  astonishment. 

"Well,  well,"  he  said,  stepping  back  and  eying  us  closely, 
"  'tis  no  matter.     Good  night,  gentlemen,  good  night." 

And  we  went  to  bed  with  many  a  laugh  over  the  incident. 

"His  name  must  be  Horatio.  We'll  discover  it  in  the 
morning,"  said  John  Paul. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

LONDON   TOWN 

But  he  had  not  risen  when  we  set  out,  nor  would  the  ill- 
natured  landlord  reveal  his  name.  It  mattered  little  to  me, 
since  I  desired  to  forget  him  as  quickly  as  possible.  For  here 
was  one  of  my  own  people  of  quality,  a  gentleman  who  pro- 
fessed to  believe  what  I  told  hun,  and  yet  would  do  no  more 
for  me  than  recommend  me  an  inn  and  a  tailor ;  while  a  poor 
sea-captain,  driven  from  his  employment  and  his  home,  with 
no  better  reason  to  put  faith  in  my  story,  was  sharing  with  me 
his  last  penny.  Goble,  in  truth,  had  made  us  pay  dearly  for 
our  fun  with  him,  and  the  hum  of  the  vast  unknown  fell  upon 
our  ears  with  the  question  of  lodging  still  unsettled.  The 
captain  was  for  going  to  the  Star  and  Garter,  the  inn  the  gen- 
tleman had  mentioned.  I  was  in  favour  of  seeking  a  more 
modest  and  less  fashionable  hostelry. 

"  Remember  that  you  must  keep  up  your  condition,  Richard," 
said  John  Paul. 

"  And  if  all  English  gentlemen  are  like  our  late  friend,"  I 
said,  "  I  would  rather  stay  in  a  city  coffee-house.  Remember 
that  you  have  only  two  guineas  left  after  paying  for  the 
chaise,  and  that  Mr.  Dix  may  be  out  of  town." 

"  And  your  friends  in  Arlington  Street  ?  "  said  he. 

"  May  be  back  in  Maryland,"  said  I ;  and  added  inwardly, 
"  God  forbid  ! " 

"We  shall  have  twice  the  chance  at  the  Star  and  Garter. 
They  will  want  a  show  of  gold  at  a  humbler  place,  and  at  the 
Star  we  may  carry  matters  with  a  high  hand.  Pick  out  the  big- 
gest frigate,"  he  cried,  for  the  tenth  time,  at  least,  "or  the 
most  beautiful  lady,  and  it  will  surprise  you,  my  lad,  to  find 
out  how  many  times  you  will  win." 

215 


216  EICHAED   CARVEL 

I  know  of  no  feeling  of  awe  to  equal  that  of  a  stranger 
approaching  for  the  first  time  a  huge  city.  The  thought  of  a 
human  multitude  is  ever  appalling  as  that  of  infinity  itself,  — 
a  human  multitude  with  its  infinity  of  despairs  and  joys,  dis- 
graces and  honours,  each  small  unit  with  all  the  world  in  its 
own  brain,  and  all  the  world  out  of  it !  Each  intent  upon  his 
own  business  or  pleasure,  and  striving  the  while  by  hook  or 
crook  to  keep  the  ground  from  slipping  beneath  his  feet.  For, 
if  he  falls,  God  help  him  ! 

Yes,  here  was  London,  great  and  pitiless,  and  the  fear  of  it 
was  upon  our  souls  as  we  rode  into  it  that  day. 

Holland  House  with  its  shaded  gardens,  Kensington  Palace 
with  the  broad  green  acres  of  parks  in  front  of  it  stitched  by 
the  silver  Serpentine,  and  Buckingham  House,  which  lay  to  the 
south  over  the  hill,  —  all  were  one  to  us  in  wonder  as  they 
loomed  through  the  glittering  mist  that  softened  all.  We  met 
with  a  stream  of  countless  wagons  that  spoke  of  a  trade  beyond 
knowledge,  sprinkled  with  the  equipages  of  the  gentry  floating 
upon  it;  coach  and  chaise,  cabriolet  and  chariot,  gorgeously 
bedecked  with  heraldry  and  wreaths  ;  their  numbers  astonished 
me,  for  to  my  mind  the  best  of  them  were  no  better  than  we 
could  boast  in  Annapolis.  One  matter,  which  brings  a  laugh 
as  I  recall  it,  was  the  oddity  to  me  of  seeing  white  coachmen 
and  footmen. 

We  clattered  down  St.  James's  Street,  of  which  I  had  often 
heard  my  grandfather  speak,  and  at  length  we  drew  up  before 
the  Star  and  Garter  in  Pall  Mall,  over  against  the  palace.  The 
servants  came  hurrying  out,  headed  by  a  chamberlain  clad  in 
magnificent  livery,  a  functionary  we  had  not  before  encoun- 
tered. John  Paul  alighted  to  face  this  personage,  who,  the 
moment  he  perceived  us,  shifted  his  welcoming  look  to  one  of 
such  withering  scorn  as  would  have  daunted  a  more  timid  man 
than  the  captain.  Without  the  formality  of  a  sir  he  demanded 
our  business,  which  started  the  inn  people  and  our  own  boy  to 
snickering,  and  made  the  passers-by  pause  and  stare.  ^  Dandies 
who  were  taking  the  air  stopped  to  ogle  us  with  their  spying- 
glasses  and  to  offer  quips,  and  behind  them  gathered  the 
flunkies  and  chairmen  awaiting  their  masters  at  the  clubs  and 


LONDON   TOWN  217 

coffee-houses  near  by.  What  was  my  astonishment,  therefore, 
to  see  a  change  in  the  captain's  demeanour.  Truly  for  quick 
learning  and  the  application  of  it  I  have  never  known  his 
equal.  His  air  became  the  one  of  careless  ease  habitual  to  the 
little  gentleman  we  had  met  at  Windsor,  and  he  drew  from  his 
pocket  one  of  his  guineas,  which  he  tossed  in  the  man's  palm. 

"  Here,  my  man,"  said  he,  snapping  his  fingers  ;  "  an  apart- 
ment at  once,  or  you  shall  pay  for  this  nonsense,  I  promise 
you."  And  walked  in  with  his  chin  in  the  air,  so  grandly  as 
to  dissolve  ridicule  into  speculation. 

For  an  instant  the  chamberlain  wavered,  and  I  trembled, 
for  I  dreaded  a  disgrace  in  Pall  Mall,  where  the  Manners 
might  hear  of  it.  Then  fear,  or  hope  of  gain,  or  something 
else  got  the  better  of  him,  for  he  led  us  to  a  snug,  well- 
furnished  siiite  of  a  parlour  and  bedroom  on  the  first  floor, 
and  stood  bowing  in  the  doorway  for  his  honour's  further 
commands.  They  were  of  a  sort  to  bring  the  sweat  to  my 
forehead. 

"  Have  a  fellow  run  to  bid  Davenport,  the  tailor,  come  hither 
as  fast  as  his  legs  will  carry  him.  And  you  may  make  it 
known  that  this  young  gentleman  desires  a  servant,  a  good 
man,  mind  you,  with  references,  who  knows  a  gentleman's 
wants.     He  will  be  well  paid." 

That  name  of  Davenport  was  a  charm,  —  the  mention  oi  a 
servant  was  its  finishing  touch.  The  chamberlain  bent  almost 
double,  and  retired,  closing  the  door  softly  behind  him.  And 
so  great  had  been  my  surprise  over  these  last  acquirements  of 
the  captain  that  until  now  I  had  had  no  breath  to  expostulate. 

"  I  must  have  my  fling,  Kichard,"  he  answered,  laughing ; 
"  I  shall  not  be  a  gentleman  long.  I  must  know  how  it  feels 
to  take  your  ease,  and  stroke  your  velvet,  and  order  lackeys 
about.  And  when  my  money  is  gone  I  shall  be  content  to  go 
to  sea  again,  and  think  about  it  o'  stormy  nights." 

This  feeling  was  so  far  beyond  ray  intelligence  that  I  made 
no  comment.  And  1  could  not  for  the  life  of  me  chide  him, 
but  prayed  that  all  would  come  right  in  the  end. 

In  less  than  an  hour  Davenport  himself  arrived,  oristling 
■with  importance,  followed  by  his  man  carrying  such  a  variety 


218  RICHARD   CARVEL 

of  silks  and  satins,  flowered  and  plain,  and  broadcloths  and 
velvets,  to  fill  the  furniture.  And  close  behind  the  tailor  came 
a  tall  haberdasher  from  Bond  Street,  who  had  got  wind  of  a 
customer,  with  a  bewildering  lot  of  ruffles  and  handkerchiefs 
and  neckerchiefs,  and  bows  of  lawn  and  lace  which  (so  he  in- 
formed us)  gentlemen  now  wore  in  the  place  of  solitaires. 
Then  came  a  hosier  and  a  bootmaker  and  a  hatter ;  nay,  I 
was  forgetting  a  jeweller  from  Temple  Bar.  And  so  imposing 
a  front  did  the  captain  wear  as  he  picked  this  and  recom- 
mended the  other  that  he  got  credit  for  me  for  all  he  chose, 
and  might  have  had  more  besides.  For  himself  he  ordered 
merely  a  modest  street  suit  of  purple,  the  sword  to  be  thrust 
through  the  pocket,  Davenport  promising  it  with  mine  for  the 
next  afternoon.  For  so  much  discredit  had  been  cast  upon 
his  taste  on  the  road  to  London  that  he  was  resolved  to  re- 
main indoors  until  he  could  appear  with  decency.  He  learned 
quickly,  as  I  have  said. 

By  the  time  we  had  done  with  these  matters,  which  I  wished 
to  perdition,  some  score  of  applicants  was  in  waiting  for  me. 
And  out  of  them  I  hired  one  who  had  been  valet  to  the  young 
Lord  Rereby,  and  whose  recommendation  was  excellent.  His 
name  was  Banks,  his  face  open  and  ingenuous,  his  stature  a 
little  above  the  ordinary,  and  his  manner  respectful.  I  had 
Davenport  measure  him  at  once  for  a  suit  of  the  Carvel  livery, 
and  bade  him  report  on  the  morrow. 

All  this  while,  my  dears,  I  was  aching  to  be  off  to  Arlington 
Street,  but  a  foolish  pride  held  me  back.  I  had  heard  so 
much  of  the  fa.shion  in  which  the  Manners  moved  that  I 
feared  to  bring  ridicule  upon  them  in  poor  MacMuir's  clothes. 
But  presently  the  desire  to  see  Dolly  took  such  hold  upon  me 
that  I  set  out  before  dinner,  fought  my  way  past  the  chairmen 
and  chaisemen  at  the  door,  and  asked  my  way  of  the  first 
civil  person  I  encountered.  'Twas  only  a  little  rise  up  the 
steps  of  St.  James's  Street,  Arlington  Street  being  but  a  small 
pocket  of  Piccadilly,  but  it  seemed  a  dull  English  mile ;  and 
my  heart  thumped  when  I  reached  the  corner,  and  the  houses 
danced  before  my  eyes.  I  steadied  myself  by  a  post  and 
looked  again.     At  last,  after  a  thousand  leagues  of  wandering, 


LONDON   TOWN  219 

I  was  near  her  !  But  how  to  choose  between  fifty  severe  and 
imposing  mansions  ?  I  walked  on  toward  that  endless  race 
of  affairs  and  fashion,  Piccadilly,  scanning  every  door,  nay, 
every  window,  in  the  hope  that  I  might  behold  my  lady's  face 
framed  therein.  Here  a  chair  was  set  down,  there  a  chariot 
or  a  coach  pulled  up,  and  a  clocked  flunky  bowing  a  lady  in. 
But  no  Dorothy.  Finally,  when  I  had  near  made  the  round 
of  each  side,  I  summoned  courage  and  asked  a  butcher's  lad, 
whistling  as  he  passed  me,  whether  he  could  point  out  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Manners. 

"  Ay,"  he  replied,  looking  me  over  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
eye,  "  that  I  can.  But  ye'll  not  get  a  glimpse  o'  the  beauty 
this  day,  for  she's  but  just  off  to  Kensington  with  a  coachful 
o'  quality." 

And  he  led  me,  all  in  a  tremble  over  his  answer,  to  a  large 
stone  dwelling  with  arched  windows,  and  pillared  portico  with 
lanthorns  and  link  extinguishers,  an  area  and  railing  beside  it. 
The  flavour  of  generations  of  aristocracy  hung  about  the  place, 
and  the  big  knocker  on  the  carved  door  seemed  to  regard  with 
such  a  forbidding  frown  my  shabby  clothes  that  I  took  but  the 
one  glance  (enough  to  fix  it  forever  in  my  memory),  and  hur- 
ried on.     Alas,  what  hope  had  I  of  Dorothy  now  ! 

"  What  cheer,  Richard  ?  "  cried  the  captain  when  I  returned ; 
"  have  you  seen  your  friends  ?  " 

I  told  him  that  I  had  feared  to  disgrace  them,  and  so  re- 
frained from  knocking  —  a  decision  which  he  commended  as  the 
very  essence  of  wisdom.  Though  a  desire  to  meet  and  talk 
with  quality  pushed  him  hard,  he  would  not  go  a  step  to  the 
ordinary,  and  gave  orders  to  be  served  in  our  room,  thus  foster- 
ing the  mystery  which  had  enveloped  us  since  our  arrival. 
Dinner  at  the  Star  and  Garter  being  at  the  fashionable  hour  of 
half  after  four,  I  was  forced  to  give  over  for  that  day  the  task 
of  finding  Mr.  Dix. 

That  evening  —  shall  I  confess  it?  —  I  spent  between  the 
Green  Park  and  Arlington  Street,  hoping  for  a  glimpse  of  Miss 
Dolly  returnmg  from  Kensington. 

The  next  morning  I  proclaimed  my  intention  of  going  to 
Mr.  Dix. 


220  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Send  for  him,"  said  the  captain.  '*  Gentlemen  never  seelj 
their  men  of  affairs." 

"  No,"  I  cried;  "  I  can  contain  myself  in  this  place  no  longer. 
I  must  be  moving." 

"  As  you  will,  Richard,"  he  replied,  and  giving  me  a  queer, 
puzzled  look  he  settled  himself  between  the  Morning  Post  and 
the  Chronicle. 

As  I  passed  the  servants  in  the  lower  hall,  I  could  not  but 
remark  an  altered  treatment.  My  friend  the  chamberlain, 
more  pompous  than  ever,  stood  erect  in  the  door  with  a  stony 
stare,  which  melted  the  moment  he  perceived  a  young  gentle- 
man who  descended  behind  me.  I  heard  him  cry  out  "  A 
chaise  for  his  Lordship ! "  at  which  command  two  of  his  assist- 
ants ran  out  together.  Suspicion  had  plainly  gripped  his  soul 
overnight,  and  this,  added  to  mortified  vanity  at  having  been 
duped,  was  sufficient  for  him  to  allow  me  to  leave  the  inn  un- 
attended. Nor  could  I  greatly  blame  him,  for  you  must  know, 
my  dears,  that  at  that  time  London  was  filled  with  adventurers 
of  all  types. 

I  felt  a  deal  like  an  impostor,  in  truth,  as  I  stepped  into  the 
street,  disdaining  to  inquire  of  any  of  the  people  of  the  Star 
and  Garter  where  an  American  agent  might  be  found.  The 
day  was  gray  and  cheerless,  the  colour  of  my  own  spirits  as  I 
walked  toward  the  east,  knowing  that  the  city  lay  that  way. 
But  I  soon  found  plenty  to  distract  me. 

To  a  lad  such  as  I,  bred  in  a  quiet  tho'  prosperous  colonial 
town,  a  walk  through  London  was  a  revelation.  Here  in  the 
Pall  Mail  the  day  was  not  yet  begun,  tho'  for  some  scarce 
ended.  I  had  not  gone  fifty  paces  from  the  hotel  before  I  came 
upon  a  stout  gentleman  with  twelve  hours  of  claret  inside  him, 
brought  out  of  a  coffee-house  and  put  with  vast  difficulty  into 
his  chair ;  and  I  stopped  to  watch  the  men  stagger  off  with 
their  load  to  St.  James's  Street.  Next  I  met  a  squad  of  red- 
coated  guards  going  to  the  palace,  and  after  them  a  grand 
coach  and  six  rattled  over  the  Scotch  granite,  swaying  to  a  de- 
gree that  threatened  to  shake  off  the  footmen  clinging  behind. 
Within,  a  man  with  an  eagle  nose  sat  impassive,  and  I  set  him 
down  for  one  of  the  King's  ministers. 


LONDON   TOWN"  221 

Presently  I  came  out  into  a  wide  space,  which  I  knew  to  be 
Charing  Cross  by  the  statue  of  Charles  the  First  which  stood 
in  the  centre  of  it,  and  the  throat  of  a  street  which  was  just  in 
front  of  me  must  be  the  Strand.  Here  all  was  life  and  bustle. 
On  one  hand  was  Golden's  Hotel,  and  a  crowded  mail-coach 
was  dashing  out  from  the  arch  beneath  it,  the  horn  blowing 
merrily ;  on  the  other  hand,  so  I  was  told  by  a  friendly  man  in 
brown,  was  Northumberland  House,  the  gloomy  grandeur 
whereof  held  my  eyes  for  a  time.  And  I  made  bold  to  ask  in 
what  district  were  those  who  had  dealings  with  the  colonies. 
He  scanned  me  with  a  puzzling  look  of  commiseration. 

"  Ye're  not  a-going  to  sell  yereself  for  seven  year,  my  lad  ? '' 
said  he.  "  I  was  near  that  myself  when  I  was  young,  and  I 
thank  God  to  this  day  that  I  talked  first  to  an  honest  man, 
even  as  you  are  doing.  They'll  give  ye  a  pretty  tale,  —  the 
factors,  —  of  a  land  of  milk  and  honey,  when  it's  naught  but 
stripes  and  curses  ye'll  get." 

And  he  was  about  to  rebuke  me  hotly,  when  I  told  him  I  had 
come  from  Maryland,  where  I  was  born. 

"Why,  ye  speak  like  a  gentleman!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  was 
informed  that  all  talk  like  naygurs  over  there.  And  is  it  not 
so  of  your  redemptioners  ?  " 

I  said  that  depended  upon  the  master  they  got. 

"Then  I  take  it  ye  are  looking  for  the  lawyers,  who  mostly 
represent  the  planters.  And  ye'll  find  them  at  the  Temple  or 
Lincoln's  Inn." 

I  replied  that  he  I  sought  was  not  an  attorney,  but  a  man 
of  business.  Whereupon  he  said  that  I  should  find  all  those  in 
a  batch  about  the  North  and  South  American  Coffee  House,  in 
Threadneedle  Street.  And  he  pointed  me  into  the  Strand, 
adding  that  I  had  but  to  follow  my  nose  to  St.  Paul's,  and 
there  inquire. 

I  would  I  might  give  you  some  notion  of  the  great  artery  of 
London  in  those  days,  for  it  has  changed  much  since  I  went 
down  it  that  heavy  morning  in  April,  1770,  fighting  my  way. 
Ay,  truly,  fighting  my  way,  for  the  street  then  was  no  place 
for  the  weak  and  timid,  when  bullocks  ran  through  it  in  droves 
on  the  way  to  market,  when  it  was  often  jammed  from  wall  to 


222  RICHARD   CARVEL 

wall  with  wagons,  and  carmen  and  truckmen  and  coaclimen 
swung  their  whips  and  cursed  one  another  to  the  extent  of 
their  lungs.  Near  St.  Clement  Danes  I  was  packed  in  a  crowd 
for  ten  minutes  while  two  of  these  fellows  formed  a  ring  and 
fought  for  the  right  of  way,  stopping  the  traffic  as  far  as  I 
could  see.  Dustmen,  and  sweeps,  and  even  beggars,  jostled 
you  on  the  corners,  bullies  tried  to  push  you  against  the  posts 
or  into  the  kennels ;  and  once,  in  Butchers'  Row,  I  was  stopped 
by  a  flashy,  soft-tongued  fellow  who  would  have  lured  me  into 
a  tavern  near  by. 

The  noises  were  bedlam  ten  times  over.  Shopmen  stood  at 
their  doors  and  cried,  "  Rally  up,  rally  up,  buy,  buy,  buy ! " 
venders  shouted  saloop  and  barley,  furmity,  ShrcAvsbury  cakes 
and  hot  peascods,  rosemary  and  lavender,  small  coal  and  seal- 
ing-wax, and  others  bawled  "  Pots  to  solder !  "  and  "  Knives  to 
grind!"  Then  there  was  the  incessant  roar  of  the  heavy 
wheels  over  the  rough  stones,  and  the  rasp  and  shriek  of  the 
brewers'  sledges  as  they  moved  clumsily  along.  As  for  the. 
odours,  from  that  of  the  roasted  coffee  and  food  of  the  taverns, 
to  the  stale  fish  on  the  stalls,  and  worse,  I  can  say  nothing. 
They  surpassed  imagination. 

At  length,  upon  emerging  from  Butchers'  Row,  I  came  upon 
some  stocks  standing  in  the  street,  and  beheld  ahead  of  me  a 
great  gateway  stretching  across  the  Strand  from  house  to  house. 
Its  stone  was  stained  with  age,  and  the  stern  front  of  it  seemed 
to  mock  the  unseemly  and  impetuous  haste  of  the  tide  rushing 
through  its  arches.  I  stood  and  gazed,  nor  needed*  one  to  tell 
me  that  those  two  grinning  skulls  above  it,  swinging  to  the 
wind  on  the  pikes,  were  rebel  heads.  Bare  and  bleached  now, 
and  exposed  to  a  cruel  view,  but  once  caressed  by  loving  hands, 
was  the  last  of  those  whom  devotion  to  the  house  of  Stuart  had 
brought  from  their  homes  to  Temple  Bar. 

I  halted  by  the  Fleet  Market,  nor  could  I  resist  the  desire 
to  go  into  St.  Paul's,  to  feel  like  a  pebble  in  a  bell  under  its 
mighty  dome ;  and  it  lacked  but  half  an  hour  of  noon  when 
I  had  come  out  at  the  Poultry  and  finished  gaping  at  the 
Mansion  House.  I  missed  Threadneedle  Street  and  went 
down   Cornhill,  in   my   ignorance   mistaking   the   Royal   Ex- 


LONDON   TOWN  223 

change,  with  its  long  piazza  and  high  tower,  for  the  coffee- 
house I  sought:  in  tlie  great  hall  I  begged  a  gentleman  to 
direct  me  to  Mr.  Dix,  if  he  knew  such  a  person.  He  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  which  mystified  me  somewhat,  but  answered 
with  a  ready  good-nature  that  he  was  likely  to  be  found  at 
that  time  at  Tom's  Cotfee  House,  in  Birchin  Laue  near  by, 
whither  I  went  with  him.  He  climbed  the  stairs  ahead  of  me 
and  directed  me,  puffing,  to  the  news  room,  which  1  found 
filled  with  men,  some  writing,  some  talking  eagerly,  and  others 
turning  over  newspapers.  The  servant  there  looked  me  over 
with  no  great  favour,  but  on  telling  him  my  business  he  went 
off,  and  returned  with  a  young  man  of  a  pink  and  white  com- 
plexion, in  a  green  riding-frock,  leather  breeches,  and  top  boots, 
who  said :  — 

"  Well,  my  man,  I  am  Mr.  Dix." 

There  was  a  look  about  him,  added  to  his  tone  and  manner, 
set  me  strong  against  him.  I  knew  his  father  had  not  been  of 
this  stamp. 

*'  And  I  am  Mr.  Richard  Carvel,  grandson  to  Mr.  Lionel 
Carvel,  of  Carvel  Hall,  in  Maryland,"  I  replied,  much  in  the 
same  way. 

He  thrust  his  hands  into  his  breeches  and  stared  very  hard. 

''  You  ?  "  he  said  finally,  with  something  very  near  a  laugh. 

"  Sir,  a  gentleman's  word  usually  suffices !  "  I  cried. 

He  changed  his  tone  a  little. 

"Your  pardon,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said,  "but  we  men  of  busi- 
ness  have  need  to  be  careful.  Let  us  sit,  and  I  will  examine 
your  letters.  Your  determination  must  have  been  suddenl}' 
taken,"  he  added,  "  for  I  have  nothing  from  Mr.  Carvel  on  the 
subject  of  your  coming." 

"  Letters  !  You  have  heard  nothing !  "  I  gasped,  and  there 
stopped  short  and  clinched  the  table.  "Has  not  my  grand- 
father written  of  my  disappearance  ?  " 

Immediately  his  expression  went  back  to  the  one  he  had 
met  me  with.     "  Pardon  me,"  he  said  again. 

I  composed  myself  as  best  I  could  in  the  face  of  his  incredu- 
lity, swallowing  with  an  effort  the  aversion  I  felt  to  giving  him 
my  story. 


224  EICHAED   CARVEL 

"I  think  it  strange  he  has  not  informed  you,"  I  said;  "I 
was  kidnapped  near  Annapolis  last  Christmas-time,  and  put 
on  board  of  a  slaver,  from  which  I  was  rescued  by  great  good 
fortune,  and  brought  to  Scotland.  And  I  have  but  just  made 
my  way  to  London." 

"  The  thing  is  not  likely,  Mr.  — ,  Mr.  — ,"  he  said,  drumming 
impatiently  on  the  board. 

Then  I  lost  control  of  myself. 

"  As  sure  as  I  am  heir  to  Carvel  Hall,  Mr.  Dix,"  I  cried, 
rising,  "yovi  shall  pay  for  your  ii^solence  by  forfeiting  your 
agency ! " 

Now  the  man  was  a  natural  coward,  with  a  sneer  for  some 
and  a  smirk  for  others.     He  went  to  the  smirk. 

"  I  am  but  looking  to  Mr.  Carvel's  interests  the  best  I  know 
how,"  he  replied ;  "  and  if  indeed  you  be  Mr.  Richard  Carvel, 
then  you  must  applaud  my  caution,  sir,  in  seeking  proofs." 

"Proofs  I  have  none,"  I  cried;  "the  very  clothes  on  my 
back  are  borrowed  from  a  Scotch  seaman.  My  God,  Mr.  Dix, 
do  I  look  like  a  rogue  ?  " 

"  Were  I  to  advance  money  upon  appearances,  sir,  I  should 
be  insolvent  in  a  fortnight.  But  stay,"  he  cried  uneasily,  as  I 
flung  back  my  chair,  "  stay,  sir.  Is  there  no  one  of  your  prov- 
ince in  the  town  to  attest  your  identity  ?  " 

"Ay,  that  there  is,"  I  said  bitterly;  "you  shall  hear  from 
Mr.  Manners  soon,  I  promise  you." 

"Pray,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said,  overtaking  me  on  the  stairs, 
"you  will  surely  allow  the  situation  to  be  —  extraordinary, 
you  will  surely  commend  my  discretion.  Permit  me,  sir,  to 
go  with  you  to  Arlington  Street."  And  he  sent  a  lad  in  haste 
to  the  Exchange  for  a  hackney-chaise,  which  was  soon  brought 
around. 

I  got  in,  somewhat  mollified,  and  ashamed  of  my  heat :  still 
disliking  the  man,  but  acknowledging  he  had  the  better  right 
on  his  side.  True  to  his  kind  he  gave  me  every  mark  of  po- 
liteness now,  asked  particularly  after  Mr.  Carvel's  health,  and 
encouraged  me  to  give  him  as  much  of  my  adventure  as  I 
thought  proper.  But  what  with  the  rattle  of  the  carriage  and 
the  street  noises  and  my  disgust,  I  did  not  care  to  talk,  and 


LONDON   TOWN  225 

presently  told  him  as  much  very  curtly.  He  persisted,  how- 
ever, in  pointing  out  the  sights,  the  Fleet  prison,  and  where 
the  Ludgate  stood  six  years  gone;  and  the  Devil's  Tavern,  of 
old  Ben  Jonson's  time,  and  the  Mitre  and  the  Cheshire 
Cheese  and  the  Cock,  where  Dr.  Johnson  might  be  found  near 
the  end  of  the  week  at  his  dinner.  He  showed  me  the  King's 
Mews  above  Charing  Cross,  and  the  famous  theatre  in  the 
Haymarket,  and  we  had  but  turned  the  corner  into  Piccadilly 
when  he  cried  excitedly  at  a  passing  chariot :  — 

"  There,  Mr.  Carvel,  there  go  my  Lord  North  and  Mr.  Rigby ! " 

"The  devil  take  them,  Mr.  Dixl  "  I  exclaimed. 

He  was  silent  after  that,  glancing  at  me  covertly  from  while 
to  while  until  we  swung  into  Arlington  Street.  Before  I  knew 
we  were  stopped  in  front  of  the  house,  but  as  I  set  foot  on  the 
step  I  found  myself  confronted  by  a  footman  in  the  Manners 
livery,  who  cried  out  angrily  to  our  man :  "  Make  way,  make 
way  for  his  Grace  of  Chartersea ! "  Turning,  I  saw  a  coach 
behind,  the  horses  dancing  at  the  rear  wheels  of  the  chaise. 
We  alighted  hastily,  and  I  stood  motionless,  my  heart  jump- 
ing quick  and  hard  in  the  hope  and  fear  that  Dorothy  was 
within,  my  eye  fixed  on  the  coach  door.  But  when  the  footman 
pulled  it  open  and  lowered  the  step,  out  lolled  a  very  broad 
man  with  a  bloated  face  and  little,  beady  eyes  without  a  spark 
of  meaning,  and  something  very  like  a  hump  was  on  the  top  of 
his  back.  He  wore  a  yellow  top-coat,  and  red-heeled  shoes  of 
the  latest  fashion,  and  I  settled  at  once  he  was  the  Duke 
of  Chartersea. 

Next  ca,me  little  Mr.  Manners,  stepping  daintily  as  ever; 
and  then,  as  the  door  closed  with  a  bang,  I  remembered  my 
errand.     They  had  got  halfway  to  the  portico. 

"  Mr.  Manners  !  "  I  cried. 

He  faced  about,  and  his  Grace  also,  and  both  stared  in  well- 
bred  surprise.  As  I  live,  ]\Ir.  Manners  looked  into  m}'"  face,  — 
into  my  very  eyes,  and  gave  no  sign  of  recognition.  And  what 
between  astonishment  and  anger,  and  a  contempt  that  arose 
within  me,  I  could  not  speak. 

"  Give  the  man  a  shilling,  Manners,"  said  his  Grace ;  "  we 
can't  stay  here  forever." 

9 


226  KICHARD   CARVEL 

"Ay,  give  the  man  a  shilling,"  lisped  Mr,  Manners  to  the 
footman.  And  they  passed  into  the  house,  and  the  door  was 
shut. 

Then  I  heard  Mr.  Dix  at  my  elbow,  saying  in  a  soft  voice  :  — 

"  Now,  my  fine  gentleman,  is  there  any  good  reason  why  you 
should  not  ride  to  Bow  Street  with  me  ?  " 

"As  there  is  a  God  i?i  heaven,  Mr,  Dix,"  I  answered,  very 
low,  "  if  you  attempt  to  lay  hands  on  me,  you  shall  answer  for 
it !  And  you  shall  hear  from  me  yet,  at  the  Star  and  Garter 
hotel." 

I  spun  on  my  heel  and  left  him,  nor  did  he  follow ;  and  a 
great  lump  was  in  my  throat  and  tears  welling  in  my  eyes. 

What  would  John  Paul  say  ? 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

CASTLE   YARD 

But  1  did  not  go  direct  to  the  Star  and  Garter.  No,  I  lacked 
the  courage  to  say  to  John  Paul :  "  You  have  trusted  me,  and  this 
is  how  I  have  rewarded  your  faith."  And  the  thought  that 
Dorothy's  father,  of  all  men,  had  served  me  thus,  after  what  I 
had  gone  through,  filled  me  with  a  bitterness  I  had  never 
before  conceived.  And  when  my  brain  became  clearer  I 
reflected  that  Mr.  Manners  had  had  ample  time  to  learn  of  my 
disappearance  from  Maryland,  and  that  his  action  had  been 
one  of  design,  and  of  cold  blood.  But  I  gave  to  Dorothy  or 
her  mother  no  part  in  it.  Mr.  Manners  never  had  had  cause 
to  hate  me,  and  the  only  reason  I  could  assign  was  connected 
with  his  Grace  of  Chartersea,  which  I  dismissed  as  absurd. 

A  few  drops  of  rain  warned  me  to  seek  shelter.  I  knew  not 
where  I  was,  nor  how  long  I  had  been  walking  the  streets  at  a 
furious  pace.  But  a  huckster  told  me  I  was  in  Chelsea,  and 
kindly  directed  me  back  to  Pall  Mall.  The  usual  bunch  of 
chairmen  was  around  the  hotel  entrance,  but  I  noticed  a 
couple  of  men  at  the  door,  of  sharp  features  and  unkempt 
dress,  and  heard  a  laugh  as  I  went  in.  Mv  head  swam  as  I 
stumbled  up  the  stairs  and  fumbled  at  the  knob,  when  I  heard 
voices  raised  inside,  and  the  door  was  suddenly  and  violently 
thrown  open.  Across  the  sill  stood  a  big,  rough-looking  man 
with  his  hands  on  his  hips. 

"  Oho !  Here  be  the  other  fine  bird  a-homing,  I'll  warrant," 
he  cried. 

The  place  was  full.  I  caught  sight  of  Davenport,  the  tailor, 
with  a  wry  face,  talking  against  the  noise ;  of  Banks,  the  man 
I  had  hired,  resplendent  in  my  livery.     One  of  the  hotel  ser- 

227 


228  RICHAED   CARVEL 

vaiits  was  in  the  corner  perspiring  over  John  Paul's  chests, 
and  beside  him  stood  a  man  disdainfully  turning  over  with 
his  foot  the  contents,  as  they  were  thrown  on  the  floor.  I  saw 
him  kick  the  precious  vellum-hole  waistcoat  across  the  room 
in  wrath  and  disgust,  and  heard  him  shout  above  the  rest :  — 

"  The  lot  of  them  would  not  bring  a  guinea  from  any  Jew 
in  St.  Martin's  Lane  !  " 

In  the  other  corner,  by  the  writing-desk,  stood  the  hatter 
and  the  haberdasher  with  their  heads  together.  And  in  the 
very  centre  of  the  confusion  was  the  captain  himself.  He  was 
drest  in  his  new  clothes  Davenport  had  brought,  and  surprised 
me  by  his  changed  appearance,  and  looked  as  fine  a  gentleman 
as  any  I  have  ever  seen.  His  face  lighted  with  relief  at  sight 
of  m_e. 

"  Now  may  I  tell  these  rogues  begone,  Richard  ?  "  he  cried. 
And  turning  to  the  man  confronting  me,  be  added,  "This 
gentleman  will  settle  their  beggarly  accounts." 

Then  I  knew  we  had  to  do  with  bailiffs,  and  my  heart 
failed  me. 

"  Likely,"  laughed  the  big  man ,  "  I'll  stake  my  oath  he  has 
not  a  groat  to  pay  their  beggarly  accounts,  as  your  honour 
13  pleased  to  call  them." 

They  ceased  jabbering  and  straightened  to  attention,  await- 
ing my  reply.  But  I  forgot  them  all,  and  thought  only  of  the 
captain,  and  of  the  trouble  I  had  brought  him.  He  began  to 
show  some  consternation  as  I  went  up  to  him. 

"My  deal  friend,"  I  said,  vainly  trying  to  steady  my  voice, 
"  I  beg,  I  pray  that  you  will  not  lose  faith  in  me,  —  that  you 
will  not  think  any  deceit  of  mine  has  brought  you  to  these 
straits.  Mr.  Dix  did  not  know  me,  and  has  had  no  word  from 
my  grandfather  of  my  disappearance.  And  Mr.  Manners, 
whom  I  thought  my  friend,  spurned  me  in  the  street  before 
the  Duke  of  Chartersea." 

And  no  longer  master  of  myself,  I  sat  down  at  the  table  and 
hid  my  face,  shaken  by  great  sobs,  to  think  that  this  was  my 
return  for  his  kindness. 

"What,"  I  heard  him  cry,  "Mr.  Manners  spurned  you, 
Richard  I     By  all  the  law  in  Coke  and   Littleton,  he  shall 


CASTLE   YARD  229 

answer  for  it  to  me.  Your  fairweather  fowl  shall  have  the 
chance  to  run  me  through  !  " 

I  sat  up  in  bewilderment,  doubting  my  senses. 

"  You  believe  me,  captain,"  I  said,  overcome  by  the  man's 
faith ;  "you  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  one  I  have  known 
from  childhood  refused  to  recognize  me  to-day  ?  " 

He  raised  me  in  his  arms  as  tenderly  as  a  woman  might. 

"And  the  whole  world  denied  you,  lad,  I  would  not.  I 
believe  you  — "  and  he  repeated  it  again  and  again,  unable  to 
get  farther. 

And  if  his  words  brought  tears  to  my  eyes,  my  strength 
came  with  them. 

"  Then  I  care  not,"  I  replied ;  "  only  to  live  to  reward  you." 

"Mr.  Manners  shall  answer  for  it  to  me  !  "  cried  John  Paul 
again,  and  made  a  pace  toward  the  door, 

"Not  so  fast,  not  so  fast,  captain,  or  admiral,  or  whatever 
you  are,"  said  the  bailiff,  stepping  in  his  way,  for  he  was  used 
to  such  scenes ;  "  as  God  reigns,  the  owners  of  all  these  fierce 
titles  be  fireeaters,  who  would  spit  you  if  you  spilt  snuff  upon 
'em.  Come,  come,  gentlemen,  your  swords,  and  we  shall  see 
the  sights  o'  London." 

This  was  the  signal  for  another  uproar,  the  tailor  shrieking 
that  John  Paul  must  take  off  the  suit,  and  Banks  the  livery ; 
asking  the  man  in  the  corner  by  the  sea-chests  (who  proved  to 
be  the  landlord)  who  was  to  pay  him  for  his  work  and  his  lost 
cloth.  And  the  landlord  shook  his  fist  at  us  and  shouted  back, 
who  was  to  pay  him  his  four  pounds  odd,  which  included  two 
ten-shilling  dinners  and  a  flask  of  his  best  Avine  ?  The  other 
tradesmen  seized  what  was  theirs  and  made  oif  with  remarks 
appropriate  to  the  occasion.  And  when  John  Paul  and  my 
man  were  divested  of  their  plumes,  we  were  marched  down- 
stairs and  out  through  a  jeering  line  of  people  to  a  hackney 
coach. 

"  Now,  sirs,  whereaway  ?  "  said  the  bailiff  when  we  were  got 
in  beside  one  of  his  men,  and  burning  with  the  shame  of  it; 
^'to  the  prison?  Or  I  has  a  very  pleasant  hotel  for  gentle- 
men in  Castle  Yard." 

The  frightful  stories  my  dear  grandfather  had  told  me  of 


230  RICHAED   CARVEL 

the  Fleet  came  flooding  into  my  head,  and  I  shuddered  and 
turned  sick.     I  glanced  at  John  Paul. 

''A  guinea  will  not  go  far  in  a  spouging-house,"  said  he,  and 
the  bailiffs  man  laughed. 

The  bailiff  gave  a  direction  we  did  not  hear,  and  we  drove 
off.  He  proved  a  bluff  fellow  with  a  blunt  yet  not  unkindly 
humour,  and  despite  his  calling  seemed  to  have  something  that 
was  human  in  him.  He  passed  many  a  joke  on  that  pitiful 
journey  in  an  attempt  to  break  our  despondency,  urging  us  not 
to  be  downcast,  and  reminding  us  that  the  last  gentleman  he 
had  taken  from  Pall  Mall  was  in  over  a  thousand  pounds,  and 
that  our  amount  was  a  bagatelle.  And  when  we  had  gone 
through  Temple  Bar,  instead  of  keeping  on  down  Fleet  Street, 
we  jolted  into  Chancery  Lane.     This  roused  me. 

"  My  friend  has  warned  you  that  he  has  no  money,"  I  said, 
"  and  no  more  have  I." 

The  bailiff  regarded  me  shrewdly. 

"  Ay,"  he  replied,  "  I  know.  But  I  has  seen  many  stripes 
o'  men  in  my  time,  my  masters,  and  I  know  them  to  trust,  and 
them  whose  silver  I  must  feel  or  send  to  the  Fleet." 

I  told  him  unreservedly  my  case,  and  that  he  must  take  his 
chance  of  being  paid ;  that  I  could  not  hear  from  America  for 
three  months  at  least.  He  listened  without  much  show  of 
attention,  shaking  his  head  from  side  to  side. 

"  If  you  ever  cheated  a  man,  or  the  admiral  here  either,  then 
I  begin  over  again,"  he  broke  in  with  decision;  "it  is  the  fine 
sparks  from  the  clubs  I  has  to  watch.  You'll  not  worry,  sir, 
about  me.  Take  my  oath  I'll  get  interest  out  of  you  on  my 
money." 

Unwilling  as  we  both  were  to  be  beholden  to  a  bailiff,  the 
alternative  of  the  Fleet  was  too  terrible  to  be  thought  of.  And 
so  we  alighted  after  him  with  a  shiver  at  the  sight  of  the  ugly, 
grimy  face  of  the  house,  and  the  dirty  windows  all  barred  with 
double  iron.  In  answer  to  a  knock  we  were  presently  admitted 
by  a  turnkey  to  a  vestibule  as  black  as  a  tomb,  and  the  heavy 
outer  door  was  locked  behind  us.  Then,  as  the  man  cursed 
and  groped  for  the  keyhole  of  the  inner  door,  despair  laid  hold 
of  me. 


CASTLE   YARD  231 

Once  inside,  in  the  half  light  of  a  ijarrow  hallway,  a  variety 
of  noises  greeted  our  :ars, — laughter  from  above  and  below, 
interspersed  with  oaths;  the  click  of  billiard  balls,  and  the 
occasional  hammering  of  a  pack  of  cards  on  a  bare  table  before 
the  shuffle.  The  air  was  close  almost  to  suffocation,  and  out 
of  the  coffee  room,  into  which  I  glanced,  came  a  hccivy  cloud 
of  tobacco  smoke. 

"  Why,  my  masters,  why  so  glum  ?  "  said  the  bailiff ;  ''  my 
inn  is  not  such  a  bad  place,  and  you'll  find  ample  good  com- 
pany here,  I  promise  you." 

And  he  led  us  into  a  dingy  antechamber  littered  with  papers, 
on  every  one  of  which,  I  daresay,  was  written  a  tragedy.  Then 
he  inscribed  our  names,  ages,  descriptions,  and  the  like  in  a 
great  book,  when  we  followed  him  up  three  flights  to  a  low 
room  under  the  eaves,  having  but  one  small  window,  and  bare 
of  furniture  save  two  narrow  cots  for  beds,  a  broken  chair,  and 
a  cracked  mirror.  He  explained  that  cash  boarders  got  better, 
and  added  that  we  might  be  happy  we  were  not  in  the  Fleet. 

"We  dine  at  two  here,  gentlemen,  and  sup  at  eight.  This 
is  not  the  Star  and  Garter,"  said  he  as  he  left  us. 

It  was  the  captain  who  spoke  first,  though  he  swallowed 
twice  before  the  words  came  out. 

"Come,  Richard,  come,  laddie,"  he  said,  "'tis  no  so  bad  it 
micht-na  be  waiir.     We'll  mak  the  maist  o'  it." 

"  I  care  not  for  m3'self.  Captain  Paul,"  I  replied,  marvelling 
i,he  more  at  him,  "  but  to  think  that  I  have  landed  you  here, 
that  this  is  my  return  for  your  sacrifice." 

"  Hoots  !  How  was  ye  to  foresee  Mr.  Manners  was  a  blel- 
lum  ?  "  And  he  broke  into  threats  which,  if  Mr.  Marmaduke 
had  heard  and  comprehended,  would  have  driven  him  into  the 
seventh  state  of  fear.  "  Have  you  no  other  friends  in  Lon- 
don ?  "  he  asked,  regaining  his  English. 

I  shook  my  head.     Then  came  a  question  I  dreaded. 

"  And  Mr.  Manners's  family  ?  " 

"  I  Avould  rather  remain  here  for  life,"  I  said,  "  than  apply 
to  them  now." 

For  pride  is  often  selfish,  my  dears,  and  I  did  not  reflect 
that  if  1  remained,  the  captain  would  remain  likewise. 


232  KICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Are  tliej  all  like  Mr.  Manners  ?  " 

"  That  they  are  not,"  I  returned  with  more  heat  than  was 
necessary;  "his  wife  is  goodness  itself,  and  his  daughter  — " 
Words  failed  me,  and  I  reddened. 

"Ah,  he  has  a  daughter,  you  say,"  said  the  captain,  casting 
a  significauT^  look  at  me  and  beginning  to  pace  the  little  room 
He  was  keener  than  I  thought,  this  John  Paul. 

If  it  were  not  so  painful  a  task,  my  dears,  I  would  give  you 
here  some  notion  of  what  a  London  sponging-house  was  in  the 
last  century.  Comyn  has  heard  me  tell  of  it,  and  I  have  seen 
Bess  cry  over  the  story.  Gaming  was  the  king-vice  of  that 
age,  and  it  filled  these  places  to  overflowing.  Heaven  help  a 
man  who  came  into  the  world  with  that  propensity  in  the  early 
days  of  King  George  the  Third.  Many,  alas,  acquired  it  before 
they  were  come  to  years  of  discretion.  Next  me,  at  the  long 
table  where  we  were  all  thrown  in  together,  —  all  who  could 
not  pay  for  private  meals,  —  sat  a  poor  fellow  who  had  flung 
away  a  patrimony  of  three  thousand  a  year.  Another  had 
even  mortgaged  to  a  Jew  his  prospects  on  the  death  of  his 
mother,  and  had  been  seized  by  the  bailiffs  outside  of  St. 
James's  palace,  coming  to  Castle  Yard  direct  from  his  Majesty's 
levee.  Yet  another,  with  such  a  look  of  dead  hope  in  his  eyes 
as  haunts  me  yet,  would  talk  to  us  by  the  hour  of  the  Devon- 
shire house  where  he  was  born,  of  the  green  valley  and  the 
peaceful  stream,  and  of  the  old  tower-room,  caressed  by  trees, 
where  Queen  Bess  had  once  lain  under  the  carved  oak  rafters. 
Here  he  had  taken  his  young  wife,  and  they  used  to  sit  together, 
so  he  said,  in  the  sunny  oriel  over  the  water,  and  he  had  sworn 
to  give  up  the  cards.  That  was  but  three  years  since,  and  then 
all  had  gone  across  the  green  cloth  in  one  mad  night  in  St. 
James's  Street.  Their  friends  had  deserted  them,  and  the 
poor  little  woman  was  lodged  in  Holborn  near  by,  and  came 
every  morning  Avith  some  little  dainty  to  the  bailiff's,  for  her 
liege  lord  who  had  so  used  her.  He  pressed  me  to  share  a 
fowl  with  him  one  day,  but  it  would  have  choked  me.  God 
knows  where  she  got  the  money  to  buy  it.  I  saw  her  once 
hanging  on  his  neck  in  the  hall,  he  trying  to  shield  her  from 
the  impudent  gaze  of  his  fellow-lodgers. 


CASTLE  YAED  233 

But  some  of  them  lived  like  lords  in  luxury,  with  never 
a  seeming  regret ;  and  had  apartments  on  the  first  floor,  and 
had  their  tea  and  paper  in  bed,  and  lounged  out  the  morning 
in  a  flowered  nightgown,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  in  a  laced 
coat.  These  drank  the  bailiff's  best  port  and  champagne,  and 
had  nothing  better  than  a  frown  or  haughty  look  for  us,  when 
we  passed  them  at  the  landing.  Whence  the  piper  was  paid 
I  knew  not,  and  the  bailiff  cared  not.  But  the  bulk  of  the 
poor  gentlemen  were  a  merry  crew  withal,  and  had  thea-  wit 
and  their  v/ine  at  table,  and  knew  each  other's  histories  (and 
soon  enough  ours)  by  heart.  They  betted  away  the  week  at 
billiards  or  whist  or  picquet  or  loo,  and  sometimes  measured 
swords  for  diversion,  tho'  this  pastime  the  bailiff  was  greatly 
set  against,  as  calculated  to  deprive  him  of  a  lodger. 

Although  we  had  no  money  for  gaming,  and  little  for  wine 
or  tobacco,  the  captain  and  I  were  received  very  heartily  into 
the  fraternity.  After  one  afternoon  of  despondency  we  both 
voted  it  the  worst  of  bad  policy  to  remain  aloof  and  nurse  our 
misfortune,  and  spent  our  first  evening  in  making  acquaintances 
over  a  deal  of  very  thin  "  debtor's  claret."  I  tossed  long  that 
night  on  the  hard  cot,  listening  to  the  scurrying  rats  among 
the  roof-timbers.  They  ran  like  the  thoughts  in  my  brain. 
And  before  I  slept  I  prayed  again  and  again  that  God  would 
put  it  in  my  power  to  reward  him  whom  charity  for  a  friend- 
less foundling  had  ])rought  to  a  debtor's  prison. 

Not  so  much  as  a  single  complaint  or  reproach  had  passed 
his  lipsl 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   RESCUE 

Perchance,  my  dears,  if  John  Paul  and  I  had  not  been  east 
by  accident  in  a  debtor's  prison,  this  great  man  might  never 
have  bestowed  upon  our  country  those  glorious  services  which 
contributed  so  largely  to  its  liberty.  And  I  might  never  have 
comprehended  that  the  American  Revolution  was  brought  on 
and  fought  by  a  headstrong  king,  backed  by  unscrupulous  fol- 
lowers who  held  wealth  above  patriotism.  It  is  often  difficult 
to  lay  finger  upon  the  causes  which  change  the  drift  of  a  man's 
opinions,  and  so  I  never  wholly  knew  why  John  Paul  aban- 
doned his  deep-rooted  purpose  to  obtain  advancement  in  Lon- 
don by  grace  of  the  accomplishments  he  had  laboured  so  hard 
to  attain.  But  I  believe  the  beginning  was  at  the  meeting  at 
Windsor  with  the  slim  and  cynical  gentleman  who  had  treated 
him  to  something  between  patronage  and  contempt.  Then  my 
experience  with  Mr.  Manners  had  so  embedded  itself  in  his 
mind  that  he  could  never  speak  cf  it  but  with  impatience  and 
disgust.  And,  lastly,  the  bailiff's  hotel  contained  many  born 
gentlemen  who  had  been  left  here  to  rot  out  the  rest  of  their 
dreary  lives  by  friends  who  were  still  in  power  and  opulence. 
More  than  once  when  I  climbed  to  our  garret  I  found  the  cap- 
tain seated  on  the  three-legged  chair,  with  his  head  between 
his  hands,  sunk  in  reflection. 

"You  were  right,  Richard,"  said  he;  "your  great  world  is 
a  hard  world  for  those  in  the  shadow  of  it.  I  see  now  that 
)it  must  not  be  entered  from  below,  but  from  the  cabin  window. 
A  man  may  climb  around  it,  lad,  and  when  he  is  above  may 
8courge  it," 

234 


THE   RESCUE  235 

"  And  you  will  scourge  it,  captain !  "  I  had  no  doubt  of  his 
ability  one  day  to  do  it. 

"Ay,  and  snap  my  fingers  at  it.  'Tis  a  pretty  organization, 
this  society,  which  kicks  the  man  who  falls  to  the  dogs.  None 
of  your  fine  gentlemen  for  me ! " 

And  he  would  descend  to  talk  politics  with  our  fellow-guests. 
We  should  have  been  unhappy  indeed  had  it  not  been  for  this 
pastime.  It  seems  to  me  strange  that  these  debtors  took  such 
a  keen  interest  in  outside  affairs,  even  tho'  it  was  a  time  of 
great  agitation.  We  read  with  eagerness  the  cast-off  news- 
papers of  the  first-floor  gentlemen.  One  poor  devil  who  had 
waddled  ^  in  Change  Alley  had  collected  under  his  mattress  the 
letters  of  Junius,  then  selling  the  Public  Advertiser  as  few 
publications  had  ever  sold  before.  John  Paul  devoured  these 
attacks  upon  his  Majesty  and  his  ministry  in  a  single  after- 
noon, and  ere  long  he  had  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  the  name 
and  value  of  every  man  in  Parliament  and  out  of  it.  He 
learned,  almost  by  heart,  the  history  of  the  astonishing  fight 
made  by  Mr.  Wilkes  for  the  liberties  of  England,  and  speedily 
was  as  good  a  Whig  and  a  better  than  the  member  from  Mid- 
dlesex himself. 

The  most  of  our  companions  were  Tories,  for,  odd  as  it  may 
appear,  they  retained  their  principles  even  in  Castle  Yard. 
And  in  those  days  to  be  a  Tory  was  to  be  the  friend  of  the 
King,  and  to  be  the  friend  of  the  King  was  to  have  some  hope 
of  advancement  and  reward  at  his  hand.  They  had  none. 
The  captain  joined  forces  with  the  speculator  from  the  Alley, 
who  had  hitherto  contended  against  mighty  odds,  and  together 
they  bore  down  upon  the  enemy  —  ay,  and  routed  him,  too. 
For  John  Paul  had  an  air  about  him  and  a  natural  gift  of  orar 
tory  to  command  attention,  and  shortly  the  dining  room  after 
dinner  became  the  scene  of  such  contests  as  to  call  up  in  the 
minds  of  the  old  stagers  a  field  night  in  the  good  days  of  Mr. 
Pitt  and  the  second  George.  The  bailiff  often  sat  by  the  door, 
an  interested  spectator,  and  the  macaroni  lodgers  condescended 
to  come  downstairs  and  listen.  The  captain  attained  to  fame 
in  our  little  world  from  his  maiden  address,  in  which  he  very 

1  Failed. 


236  EICHARD   CARVEL 

shrewdly  separated  the  political  character  of  Mr.  Wilkes  from 
his  character  as  a  private  gentleman,  and  so  refuted  a  charge 
of  profligacy  against  the  people's  champion. 

Altho'  I  never  had  sufficient  confidence  in  my  powers  to 
join  in  these  discussions,  I  followed  them  zealously,  especially 
when  they  touched  American  questio.is,  as  they  frequently  did. 
This  subject  of  the  wrongs  of  the  colonies  was  the  only  one  I 
could  ever  be  got  to  study  at  King  William's  School,  and  I 
believe  that  my  intimate  knowledge  of  it  gave  the  captain 
a  surprise.  He  fell  into  the  habit  of  seating  himself  on  the 
edge  of  my  bed  after  we  had  retired  for  the  night,  and  would 
hold  me  talking  until  the  small  hours  upon  the  injustice  of  tax- 
ing a  people  without  their  consent,  and  upon  the  multitude  of 
measures  of  coercion  which  the  King  had  pressed  vipon  us  to 
punish  our  resistance.  He  declaimed  so  loudly  against  the 
tyranny  of  quartering  troops  upon  a  peaceable  state  that  our 
exhausted  neighbours  were  driven  to  pounding  their  walls  and 
ceilings  for  peace.  The  news  of  the  Boston  massacre  had  not 
then  reached  England. 

I  was  not,  therefore,  wholly  taken  by  surprise  when  he  said 
to  me  one  night :  — 

"  I  am  resolved  to  try  my  fortune  in  America,  lad.  That  is 
the  land  for  such  as  I,  where  a  man  may  stand  upon  his  OAvn 
merits." 

"  Indeed,  we  shall  go  together,  captain,"  I  answered  heart- 
ily, "  if  we  are  ever  free  of  this  cursed  house.  And  you  shall 
taste  of  our  hospitality  at  Carvel  Hall,  and  choose  that  career 
which  pleases  you.  Faith,  I  could  j)oint  you  a  dozen  exam- 
ples in  Annapolis  of  men  who  have  made  their  way  without 
influence.  But  joix  shall  have  influence,"  I  cried,  glowing  at 
the  notion  of  rewarding  him ;  "  you  shall  experience  Mr.  Car- 
vel's gratitude  and  mine.  You  shall  have  the  best  of  our  ships, 
and  you  will." 

He  was  a  man  to  take  fire  easily,  and  embraced  me.  And, 
strange  to  say,  neither  he  nor  I  saw  the  humour,  nor  the  pity, 
of  the  situation.  How  many  another  would  long  before  have 
become  sceptical  of  my  promises  !  And  justly.  For  I  had 
led  him  to  London,  spent  all  his  savings,  and  then  got  him 


THE   RESCUE  237 

into  a  miserable  prison,  and  yet  he  had  faith  remaining,  and 
to  spare ! 

It  occurred  to  me  to  notify  Mr.  Dix  of  my  residence  in 
Castle  Yard,  not  from  any  hope  that  he  would  turn  his  hand 
to  my  rescue,  but  that  he  might  know  where  to  lind  me  if  he 
heard  from  Maryland.  And  I  penned  another  letter  to  ]\Ir. 
Carvel,  but  a  feeling  I  took  no  pains  to  define  compelled  me  to 
withhold  an  account  of  Mr.  Manners's  conduct.  And  I  re- 
frained from  telling  him  that  I  was  in  a  debtor's  prison.  For 
I  believe  the  thought  of  a  Carvel  in  a  debtor's  prison  would 
have  killed  him.  I  said  only  that  we  were  comfortably  lodged 
in  a  modest  part  of  London ;  that  the  Manners  were  inaccessi- 
ble (for  I  could  .not  bring  myself  to  write  that  they  were  out 
of  town).  Just  then  a  thought  struck  me  with  such  force  that 
I  got  up  with  a  cheer  and  hit  the  astonished  captain  between 
the  shoulders. 

"  How  now !  "  he  cried,  ruefully  rubbing  himself.  "  If  these 
are  thy  amenities,  Eichard,  Heaven  spare  me  thy  blows." 

''  Why,  I  have  been  a  fool,  and  worse,"  I  shouted.  "  My 
grandfather's  ship,  the  Sprightly  Bess,  is  overhauling  this  win- 
ter in  the  Severn.  And  unless  she  has  sailed,  which  I  think 
unlikely,  I  have  but  to  des})atch  a  line  to  Bristol  to  summon 
Captain  Bell,  the  master,  to  London.  I  think  he  will  bring 
the  worthy  Mr.  Dix  to  terms." 

"  Whether  he  will  or  no,"  said  John  Paul,  hope  lighting  his 
face,  "  Bell  must  have  command  of  the  twenty  pounds  to  free 
us,  and  will  take  us  back  to  America.  For  I  must  own,  Rich- 
ard, that  I  have  no  great  love  for  London." 

No  more  had  I.  I  composed  this  letter  to  Bell  in  such  haste 
that  my  hand  shook,  and  sent  it  off  with  a  shilling  to  the  bail- 
iff's servant,  that  it  might  catch  the  post.  And  that  after- 
noon we  had  a  two-shilling  bottle  of  port  for  dinner,  which  we 
shared  with  a  broken-down  parson  who  Lad  been  chaplain  in 
ordinary  to  my  Lord  Wortley,  and  who  had  preached  us  an 
Easter  sermon  the  day  before.  For  it  was  Easter  Monday. 
Our  talk  was  broken  into  by  the  bailiff,  who  informed  me  that 
a  man  awaited  me  in  the  passage,  and  my  heart  leaped  into  my 
throat. 


238  RICHARD   CARVEL 

There  was  Banks.     Thinking  he  had  come  to  reproach  me 
I  asked  him  rather  sharply  what  he  wanted.     He  shifted  his 
hat  from  one  liand  to  the  other  and  looked  sheepish. 

"Your  pardon,  sir,"  said  he,  "but  your  honour  must  be 
very  ill-served  here." 

"  Better  than  I  should  be,  Banks,  for  I  have  no  money,"  I 
said,  wondering  if  he  thought  me  a  first-floor  lodger. 

He  made  no  immediate  reply  to  that,  either,  but  seemed  more 
aneasy  still.  And  I  took  occasion  to  note  his  appearance.  He 
was  exceeding  neat  in  a  livery  of  his  old  master,  which  he  had 
stripped  of  the  trimmings.  Then,  before  I  had  guessed  at  his 
drift,  he  thrust  his  hand  inside  his  coat  and  drew  forth  a  pile 
of  carefully  folded  bank  notes. 

"  I  be  a  single  man,  sir,  and  has  small  need  of  this.  And  — 
and  I  knows  your  honour  will  pay  me  when  your  letter  comes 
from  America." 

And  he  handed  me  five  Bank  of  England  notes  of  ten  pounds 
apiece.  I  took  them  mechanically,  without  knowing  what  I 
did.  The  generosity  of  the  act  benumbed  my  senses,  and  for 
the  instant  I  was  inclined  to  accept  the  offer  upon  the  impulse 
of  it. 

"How  do  you  know  you  would  get  your  money  again, 
Banks  ?  "  I  asked  curiously. 

"  No  fear,  sir,"  he  replied  promptl}^,  actually  brightening  at 
the  prospect.  "I  knows  gentlemen,  sir,  them  that  are  such, 
sir.  And  I  will  go  to  America  with  you,  atid  you  say  the 
word,  sir." 

I  was  more  touched  than  I  cared  to  show  over  his  offer, 
which  I  scarce  knew  how  to  refuse.  In  truth  it  was  a  difficult 
task,  for  he  pressed  me  again  and  again,  and  when  he  saw  me 
firm,  turned  away  to  wipe  his  eyes  upon  his  sleeve.  Then  he 
begged  me  to  let  him  remain  and  serve  me  in  the  sponging- 
house,  saying  that  he  would  pay  his  own  way.  The  very 
thought  of  a  servant  in  the  bailiff's  garret  made  me  laugh,  and 
so  I  put  him  off,  first  getting  his  address,  and  promising  him 
employment  on  the  day  of  my  release. 

On  Wednesday  we  looked  for  a  reply  from  Bristol,  if  not 
for  the  appearance  of  Bell  himself,  and  when  neither  came 


THE   RESCUE  239 

apprehension  seized  us  lest  he  had  already  sailed  for  Mary- 
land. The  slender  bag  of  Thursday's  letters  contained  none 
for  me.  Nevertheless,  we  both  did  our  best  to  keep  in  humour, 
forbearing  to  mention  to  one  another  the  hope  that  had  gone. 
Eriday  seemed  the  beginning  of  eternity ;  the  day  dragged 
through  I  know  not  how,  and  toward  evening  we  climbed 
back  to  our  little  room,  not  daring  to  speak  of  what  we  knew 
in  our  hearts  to  be  so,  —  that  the  Spriglitly  Bess  had  sailed.  We 
sat  silently  looking  out  over  the  dreary  stretch  of  roofs  and 
down  into  a  dingy  court  of  Bernard's  Inn  below,  when  sud- 
denly there  arose  a  commotion  on  the  stairs,  as  of  a  man 
mounting  hastily.  The  door  was  almost  flung  from  its  hinges, 
some  one  caught  me  by  the  shoulders,  gazed  eagerly  into  my 
face,  and  drew  back.  For  a  space  I  thought  myself  dreaming. 
I  searched  my  memory,  and  the  name  came.  Had  it  been 
Dorothy,  or  Mr.  Carvel  himself,  I  could  not  have  been  more 
astonished,  and  my  knees  weakened  under  me. 

"Jack  !  "  I  exclaimed ;  "  Lord  Corny  n  !  " 

He  seized  my  hand.  "  Yes ;  Jack,  whose  life  you  saved, 
and  no  other,"  he  cried,  with  a  sailor's  impetuosity.  '"'My 
God,  Richard !  it  was  true,  then ;  and  you  have  been  in  this 
place  for  three  weeks  ! " 

"  For  three  weeks,"  I  repeated. 

He  looked  at  me,  at  John  Paul,  who  was  standing  by  in 
bewilderment,  and  then  about  the  grimy,  cobwebbed  walls  of 
the  dark  garret,  and  then  turned  his  back  to  hide  his  emotion, 
and  so  met  the  bailiff,  who  was  coming  in. 

"  For  how  much  are  these  gentlemen  in  your  books  ?  "  he 
demanded  hotly. 

"A  small  matter,  your  Lordship,  —  a  mere  trifle,"  said  tht 
man,  bowing. 

*'  How  much,  I  say  ?  " 

"Twenty-two  guineas,  five  shillings,  and  eight  pence,  my 
Lord,  counting  debts,  and  board,  —  and  interest,"  the  bailiff 
glibly  replied ;  for  he  had  no  doubt  taken  off  the  account  when 
he  spied  his  Lordship's  coach.  "  And  I  was  very  good  to  Mr, 
Carvel  and  the  captain,  as  your  Lordship  will  discover  —  " 

*'D — n  your  goodness!"  said  my  Lord,  cutting  him  short 


240  RICHARD   CARVEL 

And  he  pulled  out  a  wallet  and  threw  some  pieces  at  the  bailiff, 
bidding  him  get  change  with  all  haste.  "And  now,  Richard," 
he  added,  with  a  glance  of  disgust  about  him,  "  pack  up,  and 
we'll  out  of  this  cursed  hole  !  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  pack,  my  Lord,"  I  said. 

"  My  Lord  !  Jack,  I  have  told  you,  or  I  leave  you  here." 

''Well,  then.  Jack,  and  you  will,"  said  I,  overflowing  with 
thankfulness  to  God  for  the  friends  He  had  bestowed  upon  me. 
"  But  before  we  go  a  step.  Jack,  you  must  know  the  man  but 
for  whose  bravery  I  should  long  ago  have  been  dead  of  fever 
and  ill-treatment  in  the  Indies,  and  whose  generosity  has  brought 
him  hither.     My  Lord  Comyn,  this  is  Captain  John  Paul." 

The  captain,  who  had  been  quite  overwhelmed  by  this 
sudden  arrival  of  a  real  lord  to  our  rescue  at  the  very  moment 
when  we  had  sunk  to  despair,  and  no  less  astonished  by  the 
intimacy  that  seemed  to  exist  between  the  newcomer  and  my- 
self, had  the  presence  of  mind  to  bend  his  head,  and  that  was 
all.     Comyn  shook  his  hand  heartily. 

"You  shall  not  lack  reward  for  this,  captain,  I  promise 
you,"  cried  he.  "What  you  have  done  for  Mr.  Carvel,  you 
have  done  for  me.  Captain,  I  thank  you.  You  shall  have 
my  interest." 

I  flushed,  seeing  John  Paul  draw  his  lips  together.  But 
how  was  his  Lordship  to  know  that  he  was  dealing  with  no 
common  sea-captain  ? 

"  I  have  sought  no  reward,  my  Lord,"  said  he.  "  What  I 
have  done  was  out  of  friendship  for  Mr.  Carvel,  solely." 

Comyn  was  completely  taken  by  surprise  by  these  words, 
and  by  the  haughty  tone  in  which  they  were  spoken.  He  had 
not  looked  for  a  gentleman,  and  no  wonder.  He  took  a  quizzi- 
cal sizing  of  the  sky-blue  coat.  Such  a  man  in  such  a  station 
was  out  of  his  experience. 

"  Egad,  I  believe  you,  captain,"  he  answered,  in  a  voice 
which  said  plainly  that  he  did  not.  "  But  he  shall  be  rewarded 
nevertheless,  eh,  Richard  ?  I'll  see  Charles  Fox  in  this  matter 
to-morrow.  Come,  come,"  he  added  impatiently,  "  the  bailiff 
must  have  his  change  by  now.  Come,  Richard ! "  and  he  led 
the  way  down  the  winding  stairs. 


THE   EESCUE  241 

"  You  must  not  take  offence  at  his  ways,"  I  whispered  to  the 
captain.  For  I  well  knew  that  a  year  before  I  should  have 
taken  the  same  tone  with  one  not  of  my  class.  "His  Lordship 
is  all  kindness." 

"  I  have  learned  a  bit  since  I  came  into  England,  Richard," 
was  his  sober  reply. 

'Twas  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  gathered  on  the  landings  the  poor 
fellows  we  had  come  to  know  in  Castle  Yard,  whose  horizons 
were  then  as  gray  as  ours  was  bright.  But  they  each  had  a 
cheery  word  of  congratulation  for  us  as  we  passed,  and  the 
unhappy  gentleman  from  Devonshire  pressed  my  hand  and 
begged  that  I  would  sometime  think  of  him  when  I  was  out 
under  the  sky.  I  promised  even  more,  and  am  happy  to  be  able 
to  say,  my  dears,  that  I  saw  both  him  and  his  wife  off  for  Amer- 
ica before  I  left  London.  Our  eyes  were  wet  when  we  reached 
the  lower  hall,  and  I  was  making  for  the  door  in  an  agony  to 
leave  the  place,  when  the  bailiff  came  out  of  his  little  office. 

"  One  moment,  sir,"  he  said,  getting  in  front  of  me ;  "  there 
is  a  little  form  yet  to  be  gone  through.  The  haste  of  gentle- 
laen  to  leave  us  is  not  flattering." 

He  glanced  slyly  at  Comyn,  and  his  Lordship  laughed  a  little, 
1  stepped  unsuspectingly  into  the  office. 

"  Richard ! " 

[  stopped  across  the  threshold  as  tlio'  I  had  been  struck. 
The  late  sunlight  filtering  through  the  dirt  of  the  window  fell 
upon  the  tall  figure  of  a  girl  and  lighted  an  upturned  face,  and 
I  saw  tears  glistening  on  the  long  lashes. 

It  was  Dorothy.  Her  hands  were  stretched  out  in  welcome, 
and  then  I  had  them  pressed  in  my  own.  And  I  could  only 
look  and  look  again,  for  I  was  dumb  with  joy. 

"  Thank  God  you  are  alive ! "  she  cried ;  "  alive  and  well, 
when  we  feared  you  dead.  Oh,  Richard,  we  have  been 
miserable  indeed  since  we  had  news  of  your  disappearance." 

"  This  is  worth  it  all,  Dolly,"  I  said,  only  brokenly. 

She  dropped  her  eyes,  which  had  searched  me  through  in 
wonder  and  pity,  —  those  eyes  I  had  so  often  likened  to  the 
deep  blue  of  the  sea,  —  and  her  breast  rose  and  fell  quickly 
with  I  knew  not  what  emotions.     How  the  mind  runs,  and  the 


242  RICHARD   CARVEL 

heart  runs,  at  such  a  time !  Here  was  the  same  Dorothy  I  had 
known  in  Maryland,  and  yet  not  the  same.  For  she  was  a 
woman  now,  who  had  seen  the  great  world,  who  had  refused 
both  titles  and  estates,  —  and  perchance  accepted  them.  She 
drew  her  hands  from  mine. 

''  And  how  came  yoa  in  such  a  place  ?  "  she  asked,  turning 
with  a  shudder.  "  Did  you  not  know  you  had  friends  in  Lon- 
don, sir  ?  " 

Not  for  so  much  again  would  I  have  told  her  of  Mr.  Man- 
ners's  conduct.  So  I  stood  confused,  casting  about  for  a  reply 
with  truth  in  it,  when  Comyn  broke  in  upon  us. 

"  I'll  warrant  you  did  not  look  for  her  here,  Richard.  Faith, 
but  you  are  a  lucky  dog,"  said  my  Lord,  shaking  his  head  in 
mock  dolef ulness ;  "for  there  is  no  man  in  London,  in  the 
world,  for  whom  she  would  descend  a  flight  of  steps,  save  you. 
And  now  she  has  driven  the  length  of  the  town  when  she  heard 
you  were  in  a  sponging-house,  nor  all  the  dowagers  in  May  fair 
could  stop  her." 

"  Fie,  Comyn,"  said  my  lady,  blushing  and  gathering  up  her 
skirts ;  "  that  tongue  of  yours  had  hung  you  long  since  had  it 
not  been  for  your  peer's  privilege.  Richard  and  I  were  brought 
up  as  brother  and  sister,  and  you  know  you  were  full  as  keen 
for  his  rescue  as  I." 

His  Lordship  pinched  me  playfully. 

"  I  vow  I  would  pass  a  year  in  the  Fleet  to  have  her  do  aa 
much  for  me,"  said  he. 

"  But  where  is  the  gallant  seaman  who  saved  you,  Richard  ?  " 
asked  Dolly,  stamping  her  foot. 

"  What,"  I  exclaimed ;  "  you  know  the  story  ?  '* 

"Never  mind,"  said  she;  "bring  him  here." 

My  conscience  smote  me,  for  I  had  not  so  much  as  thought 
of  John  Paul  since  I  came  into  that  room.  I  found  him  wait= 
mg  in  the  passage,  and  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"  A  lady  wishes  to  know  you,  captain,"  I  said. 

"  A  lady ! "  he  cried.  "  Here  ?  Impossible ! "  And  he  looked 
at  his  clothes. 

"Who  cares  more  for  your  heart  than  your  appearance,"  I 
answered  gayly,  and  led  him  into  the  office. 


THE   RESCUE  243 

At  sight  of  Dorothy  he  stopped  abruptly,  confounded,  as  a 
man  wlio  sees  a  diamond  in  a  dust-lieap.  And  a  glow  came 
over  me  as  I  said :  — 

"  Miss  Manners,  here  is  Captain  Paul,  to  whose  courage  and 
unselfishness  I  owe  everything." 

"  Captain,"  said  Dorothy,  graciously  extending  her  hand, 
"Richard  has  many  friends.  You  have  put  us  all  in  your 
debt,  and  none  deeper  than  his  old  playmate." 

The  captain  fairly  devoured  her  with  his  eyes  as  she  made 
him  a  curtsey.  But  he  was  never  lacking  in  gallantry,  and 
was  as  brave  on  such  occasions  as  when  all  the  dangers  of  the 
deep  threatened  him.  With  an  elaborate  movement  he  took 
Miss  Manners's  fingers  and  kissed  them,  and  then  swept  the 
floor  with  a  bow. 

"To  have  such  a  divinity  in  my  debt,  madam,  is  too  much 
happiness  for  one  man,"  he  said.  "I  have  done  nothing  to 
merit  it.  A  lifetime  were  all  too  short  to  pay  for  such  a 
favour." 

I  had  almost  forgotten  Miss  Dolly  the  wayward,  the  mis- 
chievous. But  she  was  before  me  now,  her  eyes  sparkling, 
and  biting  her  lips  to  keep  down  her  laughter.  Comyn  turned 
to  fleck  the  window  with  his  handkerchief,  while  I  was  not  a 
little  put  out  at  their  mirth.  But  if  John  Paul  observed  it,  he 
gave  no  sign. 

"  Captain,  I  vow  your  manners  are  worthy  of  a  Frenchman," 
said  my  Lord ;  "  and  yet  I  am  given  to  understand  you  are  a 
Scotchman." 

A  shadow  crossed  the  captain's  face. 

"  I  was,  sir,"  he  said. 

"You  were!"  exclaimed  Comyn,  astonished;  "and  pray, 
what  are  you  now,  sir  ? " 

"  Henceforth,  my  Lord,"  John  Paul  replied  with  vast  cere- 
mony, "I  am  an  American,  the  compatriot  of  the  beautiful 
Miss  Manners ! " 

"  One  thing  I'll  warrant,  captain,"  said  his  Lordship,  "  that 
you  are  a  wit," 


CHAPTEK  XXVI 

THE    PART    HORATIO    PLAYED 

The  bailiff's  business  was  quickly  settled.  I  heard  the 
heavy  doors  close  at  our  backs,  and  drew  a  deep  draught  of 
the  air  God  has  made  for  all  His  creatures  alike.  Both  the 
captain  and  I  turned  to  the  windows  to  wave  a  farewell  to  the 
sad  ones  we  were  leaving  behind,  who  gathered  about  the  bars 
for  a  last  view  of  us,  for  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  mere 
sight  of  happiness  is  often  a  pleasure  for  those  who  are  sad. 
A.  coach  in  private  arms  and  livery  was  in  waiting,  surrounded 
by  a  crowd.  They  made  a  lane  for  us  to  pass,  and  stared  at 
the  young  lady  of  queenly  beauty  coming  out  of  the  sponging- 
house  until  the  coachman  snapped  his  whip  in  their  faces  and 
the  footman  jostled  them  back.  When  we  were  got  in,  Dolly 
and  I  on  the  back  seat,  Comyn  told  the  man  to  go  to  Mr. 
Manners's. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  I  cried,  scarce  knowing  what  I  said ;  "  no,  not 
there  ! "  For  the  thought  of  entering  the  house  in  Arlington 
Street  was  unbearable. 

Both  Comyn  and  Dorothy  gazed  at  me  in  astonishment. 

"And  pray,  Richard,  why  not?"  she  asked.  "Have  not 
your  old  friends  the  right  to  receive  you  ?  " 

It  was  my  Lord  who  saved  me,  for  I  was  in  agony  what  to 
say. 

"  He  is  still  proud,  and  won't  go  to  Arlington  Street  dressed 
like  a  bargeman.     He  must  needs  plume.  Miss  Manners." 

I  glanced  anxiously  at  Dorothy,  and  saw  that  she  was 
neither  satisfied  nor  appeased.  Well  I  remembered  every  turn 
of  her  head,  and  every  curve  of  her  lip !  In  the  meantime  we 
were  off  through  Cursitor  Street  at  a  gallop,  nearly  causing  the 

244 


THE   PART   HOKATIO   PLAYED  245 

death  of  a  ragged  urchin  at  the  corner  of  Chancery  Lane.  I 
had  forgotten  my  eagerness  to  know  whence  they  had  heard 
of  my  plight,  when  some  words  from  Comyn  aroused  me. 

"The  carriage  is  Mr.  Horace  Walpole's,  Richard.  He  has 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  you." 

"  But  I  have  never  so  much  as  clapped  eyes  upon  him ! "  I 
exclaimed  in  perplexity. 

"  How  about  his  honour  with  whom  you  supped  at  Windsor  ? 
how  about  the  landlord  you  s])un  by  the  neck  ?  You  should 
have  heard  the  company  laugli  when  Horry  told  us  that !  And 
Miss  Dolly  cried  out  that  she  was  sure  it  must  be  Richard, 
and  none  other.     Is  it  not  so,  INIiss  Manners  ?  " 

"  Really,  my  Lord,  I  can't  remember,"  replied  Dolly,  looking 
out  of  the  coach  window.  "  Who  put  those  frightfid  skulls 
upon  Temple  Bar  ?  " 

Then  the  mystery  of  their  coming  was  clear  to  me,  and  the 
superior  gentleman  at  the  Castle  Inn  had  been  the  fashionable 
dabbler  in  arts  and  letters  and  architecture  of  Strawberry  Hill, 
of  whom  I  remembered  having  heard  Dr.  Courtenay  speak, 
Horace  Walpole.  But  I  was  then  far  too  concerned  about 
Dorothy  to  listen  to  more.  Her  face  was  still  turned  away 
from  me,  and  she  was  silent.  I  could  have  cut  out  my  tongue 
for  my  blunder.  Presently,  when  we  were  nearly  out  of  the 
Strand,  she  turned  upon  me  abruptly. 

"  We  have  not  yet  heard,  Richard,"  she  said,  "  how  you  got 
into  such  a  predicament." 

"■  Indeed,  I  don't  know  myself,  Dolly.  Some  scoundrel 
bribed  the  captain  of  the  slaver.  For  I  take  it  Mr.  Walpole 
has  told  you  I  was  carried  off  on  a  slaver,  if  he  recalled  that 
much  of  the  story." 

"I  don't  mean  that,"  answered  Dolly,  impatiently.  "There 
is  something  strange  about  all  this.  How  is  it  that  you  were 
in  prison  ?  " 

"Mr.  Dix,  my  grandfather's  agent,  took  me  for  an  im- 
postor and  would  advance  me  no  money,"  I  answered,  hard 
pushed. 

But  Dorothy  had  a  woman's  instinct,  which  is  often  the  best 
of  understanding.     And  I  was  beginning  to  think  that  a  sus- 


246  EICHARD  CARVEL 

picion  was  at  the  bottom  of  her  questions.  She  gave  her  head 
an  impatient  fling,  and,  as  I  feared,  appealed  to  John  Paul. 

''  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me,  captain,  why  he  did  not  come  to 
his  friends  in  his  trouble." 

And  despite  my  signals  to  him  he  replied :  — 

"  In  truth,  my  dear  lady,  he  haunted  the  place  for  a  sight 
of  you,  from  the  moment  he  set  foot  in  London." 

Comyn  laughed,  and  I  felt  the  blood  rise  to  my  face, 
and  kicked  John  Paul  viciously.  Dolly  retained  her  self- 
possession. 

"  Pho ! "  says  she ;  "  for  a  sight  of  me  !  You  seamen  are  all 
alike.  Por  a  sight  of  me !  And  had  you  not  strength  enough 
to  lift  a  knocker,  sir,  —  you  who  can  raise  a  man  from  the 
ground  with  one  hand  ?  " 

'•  'Twas  before  his  tailor  had  prepared  him,  madam,  and  he 
feared  to  disgrace  you,"  the  captain  gravely  continued,  and  I 
perceived  how  futile  it  were  to  attempt  to  stop  him.  "  And 
afterward  —  " 

"  And  afterward  ?  "  repeated  Dorothy,  leaning  forward. 

"And  afterward  he  went  to  Arlington  Street  with  Mr.  Dix 
to  seek  Mr.  Manners,  that  he  might  be  identified  before  that 
gentleman.  And  there  he  encountered  Mr.  Manners  and  his 
Grace  of  Something." 

"  Chartersea,"  put  in  Comyn,  who  had  been  listening  eagerly. 

"  Getting  out  of  a  coach,"  said  the  captain. 

"  When  was  this  ?  "  demanded  Dorothy  of  me,  interrupting 
him.     Her  voice  was  steady,  but  the  colour  had  left  her  face. 

"  About  three  weeks  ago." 

"  Please  be  exact,  Richard." 

"Well,  if  you  must,"  said  I,  "the  day  was  Tuesday,  and 
the  time  about  half  an  hour  after  two." 

She  said  nothing  for  a  vvdiile,  trying  to  put  down  an  agita- 
tion which  was  beginning  to  show  itself  in  spite  of  her  effort. 
As  for  me,  I  was  almost  wishing  myself  back  in  the  sponging- 
house. 

"  Are  you  sure  my  father  saw  you  ?  "  she  asked  presently. 

"As  clearly  as  you  do  now,  Dolly,"  I  said. 

"  But  your  clothes  ?     He  might  have  gone  by  you  in  such." 


THE   PART   HORATIO  PLAYED  247 

"  I  pray  that  lie  did,  Dorothy,"  I  replied.  But  I  was  wholly 
convinced  that  Mr,  Manners  had  recognized  me. 

"  And  —  and  what  did  he  say  ?  "  she  asked. 

For  she  had  the  rare  courage  that  never  shrinks  from  the 
truth.  I  think  I  have  never  admired  and  pitied  her  as  at  that 
moment. 

"  He  said  to  the  footman,"  I  answered,  resolved  to  go  through 
with  it  now,  " '  Give  the  man  a  shilling.'  That  was  his  Grace's 
suggestion." 

My  Lord  uttered  something  very  near  an  oath.  And  she 
spoke  not  a  word  more  until  I  handed  her  out  in  Arlington 
Street.  The  rest  of  us  were  silent,  too,  Comyn  now  and  again 
giving  me  eloquent  glances  expressive  of  what  he  would  say  if 
she  were  not  present ;  the  captain  watching  her  with  a  furtive 
praise,  and  he  vowed  to  me  afterward  she  was  never  so  beau- 
tiful as  when  angry,  that  he  loved  her  as  an  avenging  Diana. 
But  I  was  vmeasy,  and  when  I  stood  alone  with  her  before  the 
house  I  begged  her  not  to  speak  to  her  father  of  the  episode. 

"  Nay,  he  must  be  cleared  of  such  an  imputation,  Richard," 
she  answered  proudly.  ''  He  may  have  made  mistakes,  but  I 
feel  sure  he  would  never  turn  you  away  when  you  came  to 
him  in  trouble  —  you,  the  grandson  of  his  old  friend,  Lionel 
Carvel." 

"  Why  bother  over  matters  that  are  past  and  gone  ?  I 
would  have  borne  an  hundred  such  trials  to  have  you  come  to 
me  as  you  came  to-day,  Dorothy.  And  I  shall  surely  see  you 
again,"  I  said,  trying  to  speak  lightly ;  •'  and  your  mother,  to 
whom  you  will  present  my  respects,  before  I  sail  for  America." 

She  looked  up  at  me,  startled. 

*'  Before  you  sail  for  America ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  a  tone 
that  made  me  thrill  at  once  with  joy  and  sadness.  "  And  are 
you  not,  then,  to  see  London  now  you  are  here  ?  " 

"  Are  you  never  coming  back,  Dolly  ?  "  I  whispered ;  for  I 
feared  Mr.  Marmaduke  might  appear  at  any  moment ;  "  or  do 
you  wish  to  remain  in  England  always  ?  " 

For  an  instant  I  felt  her  pressure  on  my  hand,  and  then  she 
had  fled  into  the  house,  leaving  me  standing  by  the  steps  look- 
ing after  her.     Comyn's  voice  aroused  me. 


248  EICHARD   CARVEL 

"  To  the  Star  and  Garter ! "  I  heard  him  command,  and  on 
the  way  to  Pall  Mall  he  ceased  not  to  rate  Mr,  Manners  with 
more  vigour  than  propriety.  *'  I  never  liked  the  little  cur, 
d — n  him!  No  one  likes  him,  Richard,"  he  declared.  "All 
the  town  knows  how  Chartersea  threw  a  bottle  at  him,  and 
were  it  not  for  his  daughter  he  had  long  since  been  put  out  of 
White's.  Were  it  not  for  Miss  Dolly  I  would  call  him  out  for 
this  cowardly  trick,  and  then  publish  him." 

"  Nay,  my  Lord,  I  had  held  that  as  my  privilege,"  interrupted 
the  captain,  "  were  it  not,  as  you  say,  for  Miss  Manners." 

His  Lordship  shot  a  glance  at  John  Paul  somewhat  divided 
between  surprise,  resentment,  and  amusement. 

"  Now  you  have  seen  the  daughter,  captain,  you  perceive  it 
is  impossible,"  I  hastened  to  interpose. 

"  How  in  the  name  of  lineage  did  she  come  to  have  such 
a  father  ?  "  Comyn  went  on.  "  I  thank  Heaven  he's  not  mine. 
He's  not  fit  to  be  her  lackey.  I  would  sooner  twenty  times 
have  a  profligate  like  my  Lord  Sandwich  for  a  parent  than  a 
milk  and  water  sop  like  Manners,  Avho  will  risk  nothing  over 
a  crown  piece  at  play  or  a  guinea  at  Newmarket.  By  G — , 
Richard,"  said  his  Lordship,  bringing  his  fist  against  the  glass 
with  near  force  enough  to  break  the  pane,  "  I  have  a  notion 
why  he  did  not  choose  to  see  you  that  day.  Why,  he  has  no 
more  blood  than  a  louse ! " 

I  had  come  to  the  guess  as  soon  as  he,  but  I  dared  not  give 
it  voice,  nor  anything  but  ridicule.  And  so  we  came  to  the 
hotel,  the  red  of  departing  day  fading  in  the  sky  above  the 
ragged  house-line  in  St.  James's  Street. 

It  was  a  very  different  reception  we  got  than  when  we  had 
first  come  there.  You,  my  dears,  who  live  in  this  Republic 
can  have  no  notion  of  the  stir  and  bustle  caused  by  the  arrival 
of  Horace  Walpole's  carriage  at  a  fashionable  hotel,  at  a  time 
when  every  innkeeper  was  versed  in  the  arms  of  every  family 
of  note  in  the  three  kingdoms.  Our  friend  the  chamberlain  was 
now  humility  itself,  and  fairly  ran  in  his  eagerness  to  antici- 
pate Comyn's  demands.  It  was  "  Yes,  my  Lord,"  and  "  To  be 
sure,  your  Lordship,"  every  other  second,  and  he  seized  the  first 
occasion  to  make  me  an  elaborate  apology  for  his  former  cold 


THE   PART   HORATIO  PLAYED  249 

conduct,  assuring  me  that  had  our  honours  been  pleased  to 
divulge  the  fact  that  we  had  friends  in  Loudon,  such  friends 
as  my  Lord  Comyn  and  Mr.  Walpole,  whose  great  father  he 
had  once  had  the  distinction  to  serve  as  linkman,  all  would 
have  been  well.  And  he  was  desiring  me  particularly  to  com- 
prehend that  he  had  been  acting  under  most  disagreeable 
orders  when  he  sent  for  the  bailiff,  before  I  cut  him  short. 

We  were  soon  comfortably  installed  in  our  old  rooms ;  Co- 
myn had  sent  post-haste  for  Davenport,  who  chanced  to  be  his 
own  tailor,  and  for  the  whole  army  of  auxiliaries  indisjDensa- 
ble  to  a  gentleman's  make-up ;  and  Mr.  Dix  was  notified  that 
his  Lordship  would  receive  him  at  eleven  on  the  following 
morning,  in  my  rooms.  I  remembered  the  faithful  Banks 
with  a  twinge  of  gratitude,  and  sent  for  him.  And  John  Paul 
and  I,  having  been  duly  installed  in  the  clothes  made  for  i^s, 
all  three  of  us  sat  down  merrily  to  such  a  supper  as  only  the 
cook  of  the  Star  and  Garter,  who  had  been  chef  to  the  Comte 
de  Maurepas,  could  prepare.  Then  I  begged  Comyn  to  relate 
the  story  of  our  rescue,  which  I  burned  to  hear. 

"  Why,  Richard,"  said  he,  filling  his  glass,  "  had  you  run 
afoul  any  other  man  in  London,  save  perchance  Selwyn,  you'd 
have  been  drinking  the  bailiff''s  triple-diluted  for  a  month  to 
come.  I  never  knew  such  a  brace  of  fools  as  he  and  Horry 
for  getting  hold  of  strange  yarns  and  making  them  stranger ; 
the  wonder  was  that  Horry  told  this  as  straight  as  he  did. 
He  has  written  it  to  all  his  friends  on  the  Continent,  and  had 
he  not  been  in  dock  with  the  gout  ever  since  he  reached  town, 
he  would  have  told  it  at  the  opera,  and  at  a  dozen  routs  and 
suppers.  Beg  pardon,  captain,"  said  he,  turning  to  John  Paul, 
"  but  I  think  'twas  your  peacock  coat  that  saved  you  both,  for 
it  caught  Horry's  eye  through  the  window,  as  you  got  out  of 
the  chaise,  and  down  he  came  as  fast  as  he  could  hobble. 

"  Horry  had  a  little  dinner  to-day  in  Arlington  Street, 
where  he  lives,  and  Miss  Dorothy  was  there.  I  have  told  you, 
Richard,  there  has  been  no  sensation  in  town  equal  to  that  of 
your  Maryland  beauty,  since  Lady  Sarah  Lennox.  You  may 
have  some  notion  of  the  old  beau  Horry  can  be  when  he  tries, 
and  he  is  over-fond  of  Miss  Dolly  —  she  puts  him  in  mind  of 


250  RICHAED   CARVEL 

some  canvas  or  other  of  Sir  Peter's.  He  vowed  he  had  been 
saving  this  pi^ce  de  resistance,  as  he  was  pleased  to  call  it, 
expressly  for  her,  since  it  had  to  do  somewhat  with  Mary- 
land. '  What  d'ye  think  I  met  at  Windsor,  Miss  Manners  ? ' 
he  cries,  before  we  had  begun  the  second  course. 

" '  Perhaps  a  repulse  from  his  Majesty,'  says  Dolly,  promptly. 

" '  Nay,'  says  Mr.  Walpole,  making  a  face,  for  he  hates  a 
laugh  at  his  cost ;  '  nothing  less  than  a  young  American  giant, 
with  the  attire  of  Dr.  Benjamin  Franklin  and  the  manner  of 
the  Pauxbourg  Saint  Germain.  But  he  had  a  whift"  of  deer 
leather  about  him,  and  shoulders  and  back  and  legs  to  make 
his  fortune  at  Hockley  in  the  Hole,  had  he  lived  two  genera- 
tions since.  And  he  had  with  him  a  strange,  Scotch  sea-cap- 
tain, who  had  rescued  him  from  pirates,  bless  you,  no  less. 
That  is,  he  said  he  was  a  sea-captain  ;  but  he  talked  French 
like  a  Parisian,  and  quoted  Shakespeare  like  Mr.  Burke  or 
Dr.  Johnson.  He  may  nave  been  M.  Caron  de  Beaumarchais, 
for  I  never  saw  him,  or  a  soothsayer,  or  Cagliostro  the  magi- 
cian, for  he  guessed  my  name.' 

"  '  Guessed  your  name  ! '  we  cried,  for  the  story  was  out  Oi 
the  ordinary. 

" '  Just  that,'  answered  he,  and  repeated  some  damned  verse 
I  never  heard,  with  Horatio  in  it,  and  made  them  all  laugh." 

John  Paul  and  I  looked  at  each  other  in  astonishment,  and 
we,  too,  laughed  heartily.     It  was  indeed  an  odd  coincidence. 

His  Lordship  continued  :  — 

" '  Well,  be  that  as  it  may,'  said  Horry,  '  he  was  an  able  man 
of  sagacity,  this  sea-captain,  and,  like  many  another,  had  a 
penchant  for  being  a  gentleman.  But  he  Av^as  more  of  an 
oddity  than  Hertford's  beast  of  Gevaudan,  and  was  dressed 
like  Salvinio,  the  monkey  my  Lord  Holland  brought  back 
from  his  last  Italian  tour.'  " 

I  have  laughed  over  this  description  since,  my  dears,  and 
so  has  John  Paul.  But  at  that  time  I  saw  nothing  funny  in 
it,  and  winced  with  him  when  Comyn  repeated  it  with  such 
brutal  unconsciousness.  However,  young  Englishmen  of  birth 
and  wealth  of  that  day  were  not  apt  to  consider  the  feelings 
of  those  they  deemed  below  them. 


THE  PART   HORATIO  PLAYED  25J 

"  Come  to  your  story,  Comyn,"  I  cut  in  testily. 

But  his  Lordsliip  missed  entirely  the  cause  of  my  diS' 
pleasure. 

"  Listen  to  him  ! "  he  exclaimed  good-naturedly.  <'  He  will 
hear  of  nothing  but  Miss  Dolly.  Well,  Richard,  my  lad,  you 
should  have  seen  her  as  Horry  went  on  to  tell  that  you  had 
been  taken  from  Maryland,  with  her  head  forward  and  her  lips 
parted,  and  a  light  in  those  eyes  of  hers  to  make  a  man  fall 
down  and  worship.  For  Mr.  Lloyd^  or  some  one  in  your  Colony, 
had  written  of  your  disappearance,  and  I  vow  Miss  Dorothy 
has  not  been  the  same  since.  Nor  have  I  been  the  only  one  to 
remark  it,"  said  he,  waving  off  my  natural  protest  at  such  ex- 
travagance. "  We  have  talked  of  you  more  than  once,  she  and 
I,  and  mourned  you  for  dead.  But  I  am  off  my  course  again, 
as  we  sailors  say,  captain.  Horry  was  describing  how  Richard 
lifted  little  Goble  by  one  hand  and  spun  all  the  dignity  out  of 
him,  when  Miss  Manners  broke  in,  being  able  to  contain  her- 
self no  longer. 

"  '  An  American,  Mr.  Walpole,  and  from  Maryland  ? '  she 
demanded.    And  the  way  she  said  it  made  them  all  look  at  her. 

'^ '  Assur^ment,  mademoiselle,^  replied  Horry,  in  his  cursed 
French  ;  '  and  perhaps  you  know  him.  He  would  gladden  the 
heart  of  Frederick  of  Prussia,  for  he  stands  six  and  three  if  an 
inch.  I  took  such  a  fancy  to  the  lad  that  I  invited  him  to  sup 
with  me,  and  he  gave  me  back  a  message  fit  for  Mr.  Wilkes  to 
send  to  his  Majesty,  as  haughty  as  you  choose,  that  if  I  desired 
him  I  must  have  his  friend  in  the  bargain.  You  Americans 
are  the  very  devil  for  independence,  Miss  Manners  !  'Ods  fish, 
I  liked  his  spirit  so  much  I  had  his  friend.  Captain  something 
or  other  — '  and  there  he  stopped,  caught  by  Miss  Manners's 
appearance,  for  she  was  very  white. 

"•'The  name  \s  Richard  Carvel!^  she  cried. 

"  '  I'll  lay  a  thousand  it  was  ! '  I  shouted,  rising  in  my  chair. 
And  the  company  stared,  and  Lady  Pembroke  vowed  I  had 
gone  mad. 

"  '  Bless  me,  bless  me,  here's  a  romance  for  certain  ! '  cried 
Horry  ;  '  it  throws  my  "  Castle  of  Otranto  "  in  the  shade '  (that's 
some  damned  book  he  has  written,"  Comyn  interjected).    "  You 


252  RICHARD   CARVEL 

may  not  believe  me,  Richard,  when  I  say  that  Miss  Dolly  ate 
but  little  after  that,  and  her  colour  came  and  went  like  the  red 
of  a  stormy  sunset  at  sea.  '  Here's  this  dog  Richard  come  to 
spill  all  our  chances,'  I  swore  to  myself.  The  company  had 
been  prodigiously  entertained  by  the  tale,  and  clamoured  for 
more,  and  when  Horry  had  done  I  told  how  you  had  fought 
me  at  Annapolis,  and  had  saved  my  life.  But  Miss  Manners 
sat  very  still,  biting  her  lip,  and  I  knew  she  was  sadly  vexed 
that  you  had  not  gone  to  her  in  Arlington  Street.  For  a 
woman  will  reason  thus,"  said  his  Lordship,  winking  wisely. 
"  But  I  more  than  suspected  something  to  have  happened,  so 
I  asked  Horry  to  send  his  fellow  Favre  over  to  the  Star  and 
Garter  to  see  if  you  were  there,  tho'  I  was  of  three  minds  to 
let  you  go  to  the  devil.  You  should  have  seen  her  face  when 
he  came  back  to  say  that  you  had  been  for  three  weeks  in  a 
Castle  Yard  sponging-house !  Then  Horry  said  he  would  lend 
me  his  coach,  and  when  it  was  brought  around  Miss  Manners 
took  our  breaths  by  walking  downstairs  and  into  it,  nor  would 
she  listen  to  a  word  of  the  objections  cried  by  my  Lady  Pem- 
broke and  the  rest.  You  must  know  there  is  no  stopping  the 
beauty  when  she  has  made  her  mind.  And  while  they  were 
all  chattering  on  the  steps  I  jumped  in,  and  off  we  drove,  and 
you  will  be  the  most  talked-of  man  in  London  to-morrow.  I 
give  you  Miss  Manners  !  "  cried  his  Lordship,  as  he  ended. 

We  all  stood  to  the  toast,  I  with  my  blood  a-tingle  and  my 
brain  awhirl,  so  that  I  scarce  knew  what  I  did. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

nr   WHICH   I   AM   SOKE   TEMPTED 

"  Who  the  devil  is  this  John  Paul,  and  what  is  to  become 
of  him  ? "  asked  Comyn,  as  I  escorted  him  downstairs  to  a 
chair.  "  You  must  give  him  two  hundred  pounds,  or  a  thou- 
sand, if  you  like,  and  let  him  get  out.  He  can't  be  coming 
to  the  clubs  with  you." 

And  he  pulled  me  into  the  coffee  room  after  him. 

"You  don't  understand  the  man,  Comyn,"  said  I;  "he  isn't 
that  kind,  I  tell  you.  What  he  has  done  for  me  is  out  of 
friendship,  as  he  says,  and  he  wouldn't  touch  a  farthing  save 
what  I  owe  him." 

"  Cursed  if  he  isn't  a  rum  sea-captain,"  he  answered,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders ;  "  cursed  if  I  ever  ran  foul  of  one  yet  who 
would  refuse  a  couple  of  hundred  and  call  quits.  What's  he 
to  do  ?  Is  he  to  live  like  a  Lord  of  the  Treasury  upon  a  mas- 
ter's savings  ?  " 

"  Jack,"  said  I,  soberly,  resolved  not  to  be  angry,  "  I  would 
willingly  be  cast  back  in  Castle  Yard  to-night  rather  than 
desert  him,  who  might  have  deserted  me  twenty  times  to  his 
advantage.  Mr.  Carvel  has  not  wealth  enough,  nor  I  grati- 
tude enough,  to  reward  him.  But  if  our  family  can  make  his 
fortune,  it  shall  be  made.  And  I  am  determined  to  go  with 
him  to  America  by  the  first  packet  I  can  secure." 

He  clutched  my  arm  with  an  earnestness  to  startle  me. 

"  You  niust  not  leave  England  now,"  he  said. 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"Because  she  will  marry  Chartersea  if  you  do.  And  take 
my  oath  upon  it,  you  alone  can  save  her  from  that." 

"  Nonsense ! "  I  exclaimed,  but  my  breath  caught  sharply, 

253 


254  EICHARD   CARVEL 

"Listen,  Richard.  Mr.  Manners's  manoeuvres  are  the  talk 
of  the  town,  and  the  beast  of  a  duke  is  forever  wining  and 
dining  in  Arlington  Street.  At  first  people  ridiculed,  now 
they  are  giving  credit.  It  is  said,"  he  whispered  fearfully, 
"  it  is  said  that  his  Grace  has  got  Mr.  Manners  in  his  power, 
—  some  question  of  honour,  you  understand,  which  will  ruin 
him,  —  and  that  even  now  the  duke  is  in  a  position  to  force  the 
marriage." 

He  leaned  forward  and  searched  me  with  his  keen  gray 
eyes,  as  tho'  watching  the  effect  of  the  intelligence  upon  me. 
I  was,  indeed,  stunned. 

"Now,  had  she  refused  me  fifty  times  instead  of  only 
twice,"  my  Lord  continued,  "  1  could  not  wish  her  such  a  fate 
as  that  vicious  scoundrel.  And  since  she  will  not  have  me,  I 
would  rather  it  were  you  than  any  man  alive.  For  she  loves 
you,  Richard,  as  surely  as  the  world  is  turning." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  I  replied  passionately ;  "  you  are  deceived  by 
the  old  liking  she  has  always  had  for  me  since  we  were  chil- 
dren together."  I  was  deeply  touched  by  his  friendship.  "  But 
tell  me  how  that  could  affect  this  marriage  with  Chartersea.  I 
believe  her  pride  capable  of  any  sacrifice  for  the  family  honour." 

He  made  a  gesture  of  impatience  that  knocked  over  a 
candlestick. 

"  There,  curse  you,  there  you  are  again  ! "  he  said,  "  show- 
ing how  little  you  know  of  women  and  of  their  pride.  If  she 
were  sure  that  you  loved  her,  she  would  never  marry  Char- 
tersea or  any  one  else.  She  has  had  near  the  whole  of  London 
at  her  feet,  and  toyed  with  it.  Now  she  has  been  amusing 
herself  with  Charles  Fox,  but  I  vow  she  cares  for  none  of 
them.     Titles,  fame,  estates,  will  not  move  her." 

"  If  she  were  sure  that  I  loved  her ! "  I  repeated,  dazed  by 
what  he  was  saying.     "  How  you  are  talking,  Comyn  !  " 

"  Just  that.  Ah,  how  I  know  her,  Richard !  She  can  be 
reckless  beyond  notion.  And  if  it  were  proved  fo  her  that 
you  were  in  love  with  Miss  Swain,  the  barrister's  daughter 
over  whom  we  were  said  to  have  fought,  she  would  as  soon 
marry  Chartersea,  or  March,  or  the  devil,  to  show  you  how 
little  she  cared." 


IN  WHICH   I   AM   SORE   TEMPTED  266 

"With  Patty  Swain!"  I  exclaimed. 

"  But  if  she  knew  you  did  not  care  a  rope's  end  for  Patty, 
Mr,  Mavmaduke  and  his  reputation  might  go  into  exile  to- 
gether," he  continued,  without  heeding.  "So  much  for  a 
woman's  pride,  I  say.  The  day  the  news  of  your  disappear- 
ance arrived,  Richard,  she  was  starting  out  with  a  party  to 
visit  Lord  Carlisle's  seat.  Castle  Howard.  Not  -^  step  would 
she  stir,  though  Mr.  Marmaduke  whined  and  coaxed  and 
threatened.  And  I  swear  to  you  she  ha;,  never  been  the  same 
since,  though  few  but  I  know  why.  I  might  tell  you  more,  my 
lad,  were  it  not  a  breach  of  confidence." 

"  Then  don't,"  I  said ;  for  I  would  not  let  my  feelings 
run. 

"  Egad,  then,  I  will ! "  he  cried  impetuously,  "  for  the  end 
justifies  it.  You  must  know  that  after  the  letter  came  from 
Mr.  Lloyd,  we  thought  you  dead.  I  could  never  get  her  to 
speak  of  you  until  a  fortnight  ago.  We  both  nad  gone  with  a 
party  to  see  Wanstead  and  dine  at  the  Spread  Eagle  upon  the 
Forest,  and  I  stole  her  away  from  the  company  and  led  her  out 
under  the  trees.  My  God,  Richard,  how  beautiful  she  was  in 
the  wood  with  the  red  in  her  cheeks  and  the  wind  blowing  her 
black  hair!  For  the  second  time  I  begged  her  to  be  Lady 
Comyn.  Fool  that  I  was,  I  thought  she  wavered,  and  my 
heart  beat  as  it  never  will  again.  Then,  as  she  turned  away, 
from  her  hand  slipped  a  little  gold-bound  purse,  and  as  I 
picked  it  up  a  clipping  from  a  ncAvspaper  fluttered  out.  'Pon 
my  soul,  it  was  that  very  scandalous  squib  of  the  Maryland 
Gazette  about  our  duel!  I  handed  it  back  with  a  bow.  I 
dared  not  look  up  at  her  face,  but  stood  with  my  eyes  on  the 
ground,  waiting. 

"'Lord  Comyn,'  says  she,  presently,  with  a  quiver  in  her 
voice,  'before  I  give  you  a  reply  you  must  first  answer,  on 
your  word  as  a  gentleman,  what  I  ask  you.' 

"  I  bowed  again. 

"'Is  it  true  that  Richard  Carvel  was  in  love  with  Miss 
Swain  ? '  she  asked." 

"  And  you  said,  Comyn,"  I  broke  in,  unable  longer  to  contain 
myself,  "you  said  —  " 


256  KICHARD  CARVEL 

"  I  said :  *  Dorothy,  if  I  were  to  die  to-morrow,  I  would  swear 
Richard  Carvel  loved  you,  and  you  only.'  " 

His  Lordship  had  spoken  with  that  lightness  which  hides 
only  the  deepest  emotion. 

"  And  she  refused  you  ? "  I  cried.  *'  Oh,  surely  not  for 
that ! " 

*'  And  she  did  well,"  said  my  Lord. 

I  bowed  my  head  on  my  arms,  for  I  had  gone  through  a 
great  deal  that  day,  and  this  final  example  of  Comyn's  gen- 
erosity overwhelmed  me.  Then  I  felt  his  hand  laid  kindly  on 
my  shoulder,  and  I  rose  up  and  seized  it.  His  eyes  were  dim, 
as  were  mine. 

"  And  now,  will  you  go  to  Maryland  and  be  a  fool  ?  "  asked 
his  Lordship. 

I  hesitated,  sadJy  torn  between  duty  and  inclination.  John 
Paul  could,  indeed,  go  to  America  without  me.  Next  the 
thought  came  over  me  in  a  flash  that  my  grandfather  might  be 
ill,  or  even  dead,  and  there  would  be  no  one  to  receive  the  cap- 
tain. I  knew  he  would  never  consent  to  spend  the  season  at 
the  Star  and  Garter  at  my  expense.  And  then  the  image  of 
the  man  rose  before  me,  of  him  who  had  given  me  all  he 
owned,  and  gone  with  me  so  cheerfully  to  prison,  though  he 
knew  me  not  from  the  veriest  adventurer  and  impostor.  I 
was  undecided  no  longer. 

"I  must  go.  Jack,"  I  said  sadly;  "as  God  judges,  I  must." 

He  looked  at  me  queerly,  as  if  I  were  beyond  his  compre- 
hension, picked  up  his  hat,  called  out  that  he  would  see  me  in 
the  morning,  and  was  gone. 

I  went  slowly  upstairs,  threw  off  my  clothes  mechanically, 
and  tumbled  into  bed.  The  captain  had  long  been  asleep. 
By  the  exertion  of  all  the  will  power  I  could  command,  I  was 
able  gradually  to  think  more  and  more  soberly,  and  the  more 
I  thought,  the  more  absurd,  impossible,  it  seemed  that  I,  a 
rough  provincial  not  yet  of  age,  should  possess  the  heart  of  a 
beauty  who  had  but  to  choose  from  the  best  of  all  England. 
An  hundred  times  I  went  over  the  scene  of  poor  Comyn's  pro- 
posal, nay,  saw  it  vividly,  as  though  the  whole  of  it  had  been 
acted  before  me :  and  as  I  became  calmer,  the  plainer  I  per- 


IN  WHICH  I   AM   SORE   TEMPTED  257 

ceived  that  Dorothy,  thinking  me  dead,  was  willing  to  let 
Comyn  believe  that  she  had  loved  me,  and  had  so  eased  the 
soreness  of  her  refusal.  Perhaps,  in  truth,  a  sentiment  had 
sprung  up  in  her  breast  when  she  heard  of  my  disappearance, 
which  she  mistook  for  love.  But  surely  the  impulse  that  sent 
her  to  Castle  Yard  was  not  the  same  as  that  Comyn  had  de- 
picted: it  was  merely  the  survival  of  the  fancy  of  a  little  girl 
in  a  grass-stained  frock,  who  had  romped  on  the  lawn  at  Carvel 
Hall.  I  sighed  as  I  remembered  the  sun  and  the  flowers  and 
the  blue  Chesapeake,  and  recalled  the  very  toss  of  her  head 
when  she  had  said  she  would  marry  nothing  less  than  a  duke, 

Alas,  Dolly,  perchance  it  was  to  be  nothing  more  than  a 
duke !  The  bloated  face  and  beady  eyes  and  the  broad  crooked 
back  I  had  seen  that  day  in  Arlington  Street  rose  before  me, 
—  I  should  know  his  Grace  of  Chartersea  again  were  I  to  meet 
him  in  purgatory.  AVas  it,  indeed,  possible  that  I  could  pre- 
vent her  marriage  with  this  man  ?  I  fell  asleep,  repeating  the 
query,  as  the  dawn  was  sifting  through  the  blinds. 

I  awakened  late.  Banks  was  already  there  to  dress  me,  to 
congratulate  me  as  discreetly  as  a  well-trained  servant  should ; 
nor  did  he  remind  me  of  the  fact  that  he  had  offered  to  lend 
me  money,  for  Avhich  omission  I  liked  him  the  better.  In  the 
parlour  I  found  the  captain  sipping  his  chocolate  and  reading 
his  morning  Chronicle,  as  though  all  his  life  he  had  done  noth- 
ing else. 

"  Good  morning,  captain."  And  fetching  him  a  lick  on  the 
back  that  nearly  upset  his  bowl,  I  cried  as  heartily  as  I  could : 
"Egad,  if  our  luck  holds,  we'll  be  sailing  before  the  week  is 
out." 

But  he  looked  troubled.  He  hemmed  and  hawed,  and  finally 
broke  out  into  Scotch :  — 

"  Indeed,  laddie,  ye'll  no  be  leaving  Miss  Dorothy  for  me." 

"  What  nonsense  has  Comyn  put  into  your  head  ?  "  I  de- 
manded, with  a  stitch  in  my  side ;  "  I  am  no  more  to  Miss 
Manners  than  —  " 

"  Than  John  Paul !  Faith,  ye'll  not  make  me  believe  that. 
Ah,  Richard,"  said  he,  "  ye're  a  sly  dog.  You  and  I  have  been 
as  thick  these  twa  months  as  men  can  well  live,  and  never  ?» 


258  RICHARD   CARVEL 

word  out  of  you  of  the  most  sublime  creature  that  walks.  1 
have  seen  women  in  many  countries,  lad,  beauties  to  set 
thoughts  afire  and  swords  a-play,  —  and  'tis  not  her  beauty 
alone.  She  hath  a  spirit  for  a  queen  to  covet,  and  air  and 
carriage,  too." 

This  eloquent  harangue  left  me  purple. 

"  I  grant  it  all,  captain.  She  has  but  to  choose  her  title  and 
estate." 

"  Ay,  and  I  have  a  notion  which  she'll  be  choosing." 

''  The  knowledge  is  worth  a  thousand  pounds  at  the  least,"  I 
replied.  "  I  will  lend  you  the  sum,  and  warrant  no  lack  of 
takers." 

"  Now  the  devil  fly  off  with  such  temperament !  And  I  had 
half  the  encouragement  she  has  given  you,  I  would  cast  anchor 
on  the  spot,  and  they  might  hang  and  quarter  me  to  move  me. 
But  I  know  you  well,"  he  exclaimed,  his  manner  changing, 
*'you  are  making  this  great  sacrifice  on  my  account.  And  I 
will  not  be  a  drag  on  your  pleasures,  Richard,  or  stand  in  the 
way  of  your  prospects." 

"  Captain  Paul,"  I  said,  sitting  down  beside  him,  "  have  I 
deserved  this  from  you  ?  Have  I  shown  a  desire  to  desert  you 
now  that  my  fortunes  have  changed  ?  I  have  said  that  you 
shall  taste  of  our  cheer  at  Carvel  Hall,  and  have  looked  for- 
ward this  long  while  to  the  time  when  I  shall  take  you  to  my 
grandfather  and  say:  'Mr.  Carvel,  this  is  he  whose  courage 
and  charity  have  restored  you  to  me,  and  me  to  you.'  And  he 
will  have  changed  mightily  if  you  do  not  have  the  best  in 
Maryland.  Should  you  wish  to  continue  on  the  sea,  you  shall 
have  the  Belle  of  the  Wye,  launched  last  year.  'Tis  time  Cap- 
tain Elliott  took  to  his  pension." 

The  captain  sighed,  and  a  gleam  I  did  not  understand  came 
into  his  dark  eyes. 

"  I  would  that  God  had  given  me  your  character  and  your 
heart,  Richard,"  he  said,  "in  place  of  this  striving  thing  I 
have  within  me.  But  'tis  written  that  a  leopard  cannot  change 
his  spots." 

"  The  passage  shall  be  booked  this  day,"  I  said. 

That  morning  was  an  eventful  one.     Comyn  arrived  first, 


IN   WHICH   I  AM   SORE  TEMPTED  259 

dressed  in  a  suit  of  mauve  French  cloth  that  set  off  his  fine  figure 
to  great  advantage.  He  regarded  me  keenly  as  he  entered,  as  if 
to  discover  Avhether  I  had  changed  my  mind  over  night.  And 
I  saw  he  was  not  in  the  best  of  tempers. 

"  And  when  do  you  sail  ?  "  he  cried.  "  I  have  no  doubt  you 
have  sent  out  already  to  get  passage." 

**  I  have  been  trying  to  persuade  Mr.  Carvel  to  remain  in 
London,  my  Lord,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  tell  him  he  is  leaving 
his  best  interests  behind  him." 

"I  fear  that  for  once  you  have  undertaken  a  task  beyond 
your  ability,  Captain  Paul,"  was  the  rather  tart  reply. 

"  The  captain  has  a  ridiculous  idea  that  he  is  the  cause  of  my 
going,"  I  said  quickly. 

John  Paul  rose  somewhat  abruptly,  seized  his  hat  and  bowed 
to  his  Lordship,  and  in  the  face  of  a  rain  sallied  out,  remarking 
that  he  had  as  yet  seen  nothing  of  the  city. 

"  Jack,  you  must  do  me  the  favour  not  to  talk  of  this  in  John 
Paul's  presence,"  I  said,  when  the  door  had  closed. 

"If  he  doesn't  suspect  why  yoiware  going,  he  has  more  stu- 
pidity than  I  gave  him  credit  for,"  Comyn  answered  gruffly. 

"  I  fear  he  does  suspect,"  I  said. 

His  Lordship  went  to  the  table  and  began  to  write,  leaving 
me  to  the  Chronicle,  the  pages  of  which  I  did  not  see.  Then 
came  Mr.  Dix,  and  such  a  change  I  had  never  beheld  in  mortal 
man.  In  place  of  the  would-be  squire  I  had  encountered  in 
Threadneedle  Street,  here  was  an  unctuous  person  of  business 
in  sober  gray ;  but  he  still  wore  the  hypocritical  smirk  with 
no  joy  in  it.  His  bow  was  now  all  respectful  obedience, 
Comyn  acknowledged  it  with  a  curt  nod. 

Mr.  Dix  began  smoothly,  where  a  man  of  more  honesty 
would  have  found  the  going  difficult. 

"  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands,  "  I  wish  first  to 
express  my  profound  regrets  for  what  has  happened." 

"  Curse  your  regrets,"  said  Comyn,  bluntly.  "  You  come 
here  on  business.  Mr.  Carvel  does  not  stand  in  need  of  regrets 
at  present." 

"  I  was  but  on  the  safe  side  of  Mr.  Carvel's  money,  my 
Lord." 


260  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Ay,  I'll  warrant  you  are  always  on  the  safe  side  of 
money,"  replied  Comyn,  with  a  laugh.  "  What  I  wish  to  know, 
Mr.  Dix,"  he  continued,  "  is  whether  you  are  willing  to  take 
my  word  that  this  is  Mr.  Richard  Carvel,  the  grandson  and 
heir  of  Lionel  Carvel,  Esquire,  of  Carvel  Hall  in  Maryland?  " 

"  I  am  your  Lordship's  most  obedient  servant,"  said  Mr.  Dix. 

"Confound  you,  sir!  Can  you  or  can  you  not  answer  a 
simple  question  ?  " 

Mr.  Dix  straightened.  He  may  have  spoken  elsewhere  of 
asserting  his  dignity. 

"  I  would  not  presume  to  doubt  your  Lordship's  word." 

"  Then,  if  I  were  to  be  personally  responsible  for  such  sums 
as  Mr.  Carvel  may  need,  I  suppose  you  would  be  willing  to  ad- 
vance them  to  him." 

"  Willingly,  willingly,  my  Lord,"  said  Mr.  Dix,  and  added 
immediately :  "  Your  Lordship  will  not  object  to  putting  that  in 
writing  ?  Merely  a  matter  of  form,  as  your  Lordship  knows,  but 
we  men  of  affairs  are  held  to  a  strict  accountability." 

Comyn  made  a  movement  of  disgust,  took  up  a  pen  and 
wrote  out  the  indorsement. 

"  There,"  he  said.  "  You  men  of  affairs  will  at  least  never 
die  of  starvation." 

Mr.  Dix  took  the  paper  with  a  low  bow,  began  to  shower  me 
with  protestations  of  his  fidelity  to  my  grandfather's  interests, 
which  were  one  day  to  be  my  own,  —  he  hoped,  with  me,  not 
soon,  —  drew  from  his  pocket  more  than  sufficient  for  my  imme- 
diate wants,  said  that  I  should  have  more  by  a  trusty  messen- 
ger, and  was  going  on  to  clear  himself  of  his  former  neglect 
and  indifference,  when  Banks  announced :  — 

"  His  honour,  Mr.  Manners !  " 

Comyn  and  I  exchanged  glances,  and  his  Lordship  gave  a  low 
whistle.  Nor  was  the  circumstance  without  its  effect  upon  Mr. 
Dix.  With  my  knowledge  of  the  character  of  Dorothy's  father 
I  might  have  foreseen  this  visit,  which  came,  nevertheless,  as 
a  complete  surprise.  For  a  moment  I  hesitated,  and  then 
made  a  motion  to  show  him  iip.     Comyn  voiced  my  decision. 

"Why  let  the  little  cur  stand  in  the  way?"  he  said;  "he 
counts  for  nothing." 


IN   WHICH   I   AM   SORE   TEMPTED  261 

Mr.  MarmacUike  was  not  long  in  ascending,  and  tripped  into 
the  room  as  Mr.  Dix  backed  out  of  it,  as  gayly  as  tho'  lie  had 
never  sent  me  about  my  business  in  the  street.  His  clothes,  of 
a  cherry  cut  velvet,  were  as  ever  a  little  beyond  the  fashion, 
and  he  carried  something  I  had  never  before  seen,  then  used 
by  the  extreme  dandies  in  London,  —  an  umbrella. 

"  What !  Richard  Carvel !  Is  it  possible  ?  "  he  screamed  in 
his  piping  voice.  "  W^e  mourned  you  for  dead,  and  here  you 
turn  up  in  London  alive  and  well,  and  bigger  and  stronger  than 
ever.  Oons !  one  need  not  go  to  Scripture  for  miracles.  I 
shall  write  my  congratulations  to  Mr.  Carvel  this  day,  sir." 

And  he  pushed  his  fingers  into  my  waistcoat,  so  that  Com^-n 
and  I  were  near  to  laughing  in  his  face.  For  it  was  impossible 
to  be  angry  with  a  little  coxcomb  of  such  pitiful  intelligence. 

"  Ah,  good  morning,  my  Lord.  I  see  your  Lordship  has  risen 
early  in  the  same  good  cause,  —  I  myself  am  up  two  hours  be- 
fore my  time.  You  will  pardon  the  fuss  I  am  making  over 
the  lad,  Comyn,  but  his  grandfather  is  my  very  dear  friend, 
and  Richard  was  brought  up  with  my  daughter  Dorothy. 
They  were  like  brother  and  sister.  What,  Richard,  you  will 
not  take  my  hand  !  Surely  you  are  not  so  unreasonable  as  to 
hold  against  me  that  unfortunate  circumstance  in  Arlington 
Street!  Yes,  Dorothy  has  shocked  me.  She  has  told  me 
of  it." 

Comyn  winked  at  me  as  I  replied :  — 

"  We  shan't  mention  it,  Mr.  Manners.  I  have  had  my  three 
weeks  in  prison,  and  perhaps  know  the  world  all  the  better  for 
them." 

He  held  up  his  umbrella  in  mock  dismay,  and  stumbled  ab- 
ruptly into  a  chair.  There  he  sat  looking  at  me,  a  whimsical 
uneasiness  on  his  face. 

"  We  shall  indeed  mention  it,  sir.  Three  weeks  in  prison,  to 
think  of  it  I  And  you  would  not  so  much  as  send  me  a  line. 
Ah,  Richard,  pride  is  a  good  thing,  but  I  sometimes  think  we 
from  Maryland  have  too  much  of  it.  We  shall  indeed  speak 
of  the  matter.  Out  of  justice  to  me  you  must  understand  how 
it  occurred.  You  must  know  that  I  am  deucedly  absent- 
minded^  and  positively  lost  without  my  glass.     And  I  had 


262  RICHARD   CARVEL 

somebody  with  me,  so  Dorothy  said.  Chartersea,  I  believe. 
And  his  Grace  made  me  think  you  were  a  cursed  beggar.  1 
make  a  point  never  to  have  to  do  with  'em." 

"  You  are  riglit,  Mr.  Manners,"  Comyn  cut  in  dryly ;  "  for  1 
have  known  them  to  be  so  ]3ersistently  troublesome,  when  once 
encouraged,  as  to  interfere  seriously  with  our  arrangements." 

"  Eh ! "  Mr.  Manners  ejaculated,  and  then  came  to  an  ab* 
rupt  pause,  while  I  wondered  whether  the  shot  had  told.  To 
relieve  him  I  inquired  after  Mrs.  Manners's  health. 

"Ah,  to  be  sure,"  he  replied,  beginning  to  fumble  in  his 
skirts ;  "London  agrees  with  her  remarkably,  and  she  is  better 
than  she  has  been  for  years.  And  she  is  overjoyed  at  youi 
most  wonderful  escape,  Richard,  as  are  we  all." 

And  he  gave  me  a  note.  I  concealed  my  eagerness  as  I  took 
it  and  broke  the  seal,  to  discover  that  it  was  not  from  Dorothy, 
but  from  Mrs.  Manners  herself. 

"  My  dear  Richard  "  (so  it  ran),  "  1  thank  God  with  your  dear 
Grandfather  over  j'v  Deliverance,  &  you  must  bring  y'r  Deliv- 
erer, whom  Dorothy  describes  as  Courtly  and  Gentlemanly  de- 
spite his  Calling,  to  dine  with  us  this  very  Day,  that  we  may 
express  to  him  our  Gratitude.  I  know  you  are  far  too  Sensible 
not  to  come  to  Arlington  Street.     I  subscribe  myself,  Richard, 

y'r  sincere  Friend, 

«  Margaret  Manners." 

There  was  not  so  much  as  a  postscript  from  Dolly,  as  I  had 
hoped.  But  the  letter  was  whole-souled,  like  Mrs.  Manners, 
and  breathed  the  affection  she  had  always  had  for  me.  I  hon- 
oured her  the  more  that  she  had  not  attempted  to  excuse  Mr 
Manners's  conduct. 

"  You  will  come,  Richard  ? "  cried  Mr.  Marmaduke,  with  an 
attempt  at  heartiness.  "  You  must  come,  and  the  captain,  too. 
For  I  hear,  with  regret,  that  you  are  not  to  be  long  with  us." 

I  caught  another  significant  look  from  Comyn  from  between 
the  window  curtains.  But  I  accepted  for  myself,  and  condi 
tionally  for  John  Paul.     Mr.  Manners  rose  to  take  his  leave. 

"  Dorothy  will  be  glad  to  see  you,"  he  said.  "  I  often  think, 
Richard,  that  she  tires  of  these  generals  and  King's  ministers, 


IN   WHICH   I   AM   SORE   TEMPTED  263 

and  longs  for  a  romp  at  Wilmot  House  again.  Alas,"  he  sighed, 
offering  us  a  pinch  of  snuff  (which  he  said  was  the  famous 
Number  37),  "  alas,  she  has  had  a  deal  too  much  of  attention, 
with  his  Grace  of  Chartersea  and  a  dozen  others  wild  to  marry 
her.  I  fear  she  will  go  soon,"  and  he  sighed  again.  "  Upon 
my  soul  I  cannot  make  her  out.  I'll  lay  something  handsome, 
my  Lord,  that  the  madcap  adventure  with  you  after  Eichard 
sets  the  gossips  going.  One  day  she  is  like  a  schoolgirl,  and  I 
blame  myself  for  not  taking  her  mother's  advice  to  send  her  to 
Mrs.  Terry,  at  Campden  House ;  and  the  next,  egad,  she  is  as 
difficult  to  approach  as  a  crowned  head.  Well,  gentlemen,  I 
give  you  good  day,  I  have  an  appointment  at  White's.  I  am 
happy  to  see  you  have  fallen  in  good  hands,  Richard.  My 
Lord,  your  most  obedient!  " 

"  He'll  lay  something  handsome  I "  said  my  Lord,  when  the 
4oor  had  closed  behind  him 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII 

ARLINGTON   STREET 

The  sun  having  come  out,  and  Jolm  Paul  not  returning  by 
two, — being  ogling,  I  supposed,  the  ladies  in  Hyde  Park, —  I 
left  him  a  message  and  betook  myself  with  as  great  trepidation 
as  ever  to  Dorothy's  house.  The  door  was  opened  by  the  iden- 
tical footman  who  had  so  insolently  offered  me  money,  and  I 
think  he  recognized  me,  for  he  backed  away  as  he  told  me  the 
ladies  were  not  at  home.  But  I  had  not  gone  a  dozen  paces  in 
my  disappointment  when  I  heard  him  running  after  me,  asking 
if  my  honour  were  Mr.  Eichard  Carvel. 

"  The  ladies  will  see  your  honour,"  he  said,  and  conducted 
me  back  into  the  house  and  up  the  wide  stairs.  I  had  heard 
that  Arlington  Street  was  known  as  the  street  of  the  King's 
ministers,  and  I  surmised  that  Mr.  Manners  had  rented  this 
house,  and  its  furniture,  from  some  great  man  who  had  gone 
out  of  office,  plainly  a  person  of  means  and  taste.  The  hall,  like 
that  of  many  of  the  great  town-houses,  was  in  semi-darkness, 
but  I  remarked  that  the  stair  railing  was  of  costly  iron-work 
and  polished  brass ;  and,  as  I  went  up,  that  the  stone  niches  in 
the  wall  were  filled  with  the  busts  of  statesmen,  and  I  recog- 
nized among  these,  that  of  the  great  Walpole.  A  great  copper- 
gilt  chandelier  hung  above.  But  the  picture  of  the  drawing- 
room  I  was  led  into,  with  all  its  colours,  remains  in  the  eye  of 
my  mind  to  this  day.  It  was  a  large  room,  the  like  of  Avhich 
I  had  never  seen  in  any  private  residence  of  the  New  World, 
sitiiated  in  the  back  of  the  house.  Its  balcony  overlooked  the 
fresh  expanse  of  the  Green  Park.  Upon  its  high  ceilii;  s,  floated 
Venus  and  the  graces,  by  Zucchi ;  and  the  mantel,  u],-ni  which 
ticked  an  antique  and  curious  French  clock,  v/as  carved  marble. 

264 


ARLINGTON   STREET  265 

On  the  gilt  panels  of  the  walls  were  wreaths  of  red  roses.  At 
least  a  half-dozen  tall  mirrors,  framed  in  rococos,  were  placed 
about,  tne  largest  taking  the  space  between  the  two  high  win- 
dows  on  the  park  side.  And  underneath  it  stood  a  gold  cabi- 
net, lacquered  by  Martin's  inimitable  hand,  in  the  centre  of 
which  was  set  a  medallion  of  porcelain,  with  the  head  in  dark 
blue  of  his  Majesty,  Charles  the  First.  The  chairs  and  lounges 
were  marquetry,  —  satin-wood  and  mahogany,  —  with  seats  and 
backs  of  blue  brocade.  The  floor  was  polished  to  the  degree 
of  danger,  and  on  the  walls  hung  a  portrait  by  Van  Dycke,  an- 
other, of  a  young  girl,  by  Richardson,  a  landscape  by  the  Dutch 
artist  Ruysdael,  and  a  water-colour  by  Zaccarelli. 

I  had  lived  for  four  months  the  roughest  of  lives,  and  the 
room  brought  before  me  so  sharply  the  contrast  between  my 
estate  and  the  grandeur  and  elegance  in  which  Dorothy  lived, 
that  my  spirits  fell  as  I  looked  about  me.  In  front  of  me  was 
a  vase  of  flowers,  and  beside  them  on  the  table  lay  a  note  "  To 
Miss  Manners,  in  Arlington  Street,"  and  sealed  with  a  ducal 
crest.  I  was  unconsciously  turning  it  over,  when  something 
impelled  me  to  look  around.  There,  erect  in  the  doorway, 
stood  Dolly,  her  eyes  so  earnestly  fixed  upon  me  that  I  dropped 
the  letter  with  a  start.  A  faint  colour  moimted  to  her  crown  of 
black  hair. 

"And  so  you  have  come,  Richard,"  she  said.  Her  voice 
was  low,  and  tho'  there  was  no  anger  in  it,  the  tone  seemed 
that  of  reproach.  I  wondered  whether  she  thought  the  less  of 
me  for  coming. 

"  Can  you  blame  me  for  wishing  to  see  you  before  I  leave, 
Dolly  ?  "  I  cried,  and  crossed  quickly  over  to  her. 

But  she  drew  a  step  backward. 

"Then  it  is  true  that  you  are  going,"  said  she,  this  time  with 
a  plain  note  of  coldness. 

"  I  must,  Dorothy." 

"  When  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  I  can  get  passage." 

She  passed  me  and  seated  herself  on  the  lounge,  leaving  me 
to  stand  like  a  lout  before  her,  ashamed  of  my  youth  and  of 
the  clumsiness  of  my  great  body. 


266  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Ah,  Richard,"  she  laughed,  "confess  to  your  old  play- 
mate !  I  should  like  to  know  how  many  young  men  of  wealth 
and  family  would  give  up  the  pleasures  of  a  London  season 
were  there  not  a  strong  attraction  in  Maryland." 

How  I  longed  to  tell  her  that  I  would  give  ten  years  of  my 
life  to  remain  in  England:  that  duty  to  John  Paul  took  me 
home.     But  I  was  dumb. 

"  We  should  make  a  macaroni  of  you  to  amaze  our  colony," 
said  Dolly,  lightly,  as  I  sat  down  a  great  distance  away ;  "  to 
accept  my  schooling  were  to  double  your  chances  when  you 
return,  Richard.  You  should  have  cards  to  everything,  and 
my  Lord  Comyn  or  Mr.  Fox  or  some  one  would  introduce  you  at 
the  clubs.  I  vow  you  would  be  a  sensation,  with  your  height 
and  figure.  You  should  meet  all  the  beauties  of  England,  and 
perchance,"  she  added  mischievously,  "  perchance  you  might 
be  taking  one  home  with  you." 

''Nay,  Dolly,"  I  answered;  "I  am  not  your  match  in 
jesting." 

"  Jesting  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  was  never  more  sober.  But 
where  is  your  captain  ?  " 

I  said  that  I  hoped  that  John  Paul  would  be  there  shortly. 

"  How  fanciful  he  is  !  And  his  conversation,  —  one  might 
think  he  had  acquired  the  art  at  Marly  or  in  the  Eauxbourg. 
In  truth,  he  should  have  been  born  on  the  far  side  of  the  Chan- 
nel. And  he  has  the  air  of  the  great  man,"  said  she,  glancing 
up  at  me,  covertly.  "For  my  part,  I  prefer  a  little  more 
bluntness." 

I  was  nettled  at  the  speech.  Dorothy  had  ever  been  quick 
to  seize  upon  and  ridicule  the  vulnerable  oddities  of  a  char- 
acter, and  she  had  all  the  contempt  of  the  great  lady  for  those 
who  tried  to  scale  by  pleasing  arts.  I  perceived  with  regret 
that  she  had  taken  a  prejudice. 

"There,  Dorothy,"  I  cried,  "not  even  you  shall  talk  so  of 
the  captain.  For  you  have  seen  him  at  his  worst.  There  are 
not  many,  I  warrant  you,  born  like  him  a  poor  gardener's  son 
who  rise  by  character  and  ability  to  be  a  captain  at  three  and 
twenty.  And  he  will  be  higher  yet.  He  has  never  attended 
any  but  a  parish  school,  and  still  has  learning  to  astonish  Mr. 


ARLINGTON   STREET  267 

Walpole,  learning  which  he  got  under  vast  difficulties.  He  is 
a  gentleman,  I  say,  far  above  many  I  have  known,  and  he  is 
a  man.  If  you  would  know  a  master,  you  should  see  him  on 
his  own  ship.  If  you  would  know  a  gentleman,  you  should 
have  been  with  me  in  his  mother's  cottage."  And,  warming  as 
I  talked,  I  told  her  .of  that  saddest  of  all  home-comings  to  the 
little  cabin  under  Criffel's  height. 

Small  wonder  that  I  adored  Dorothy !  Would  that  I  could 
paint  her  moods,  that  I  might  describe  the  strange  light  in  her 
eyes  when  I  had  finished,  that  I  might  tell  how  in  an  instant 
she  was  another  woman.  She  rose  impulsively  and  took  a 
chair  at  my  side,  and  said :  — 

"'Tis  so  I  love  to  hear  you  speak,  Richard,  when  j^ou  up- 
hold the  absent.  For  I  feel  it  is  so  you  must  champion  me 
when  I  am  far  away.  My  dear  old  playmate  is  ever  the  same, 
strong  to  resent,  and  seeing  ever  the  best  in  his  friends.  For- 
give me,  Richard,  I  have  been  worse  than  silly.  And  will 
you  tell  me  that  story  of  your  adventures  which  I  long  to 
learn  ?  " 

Ay,  that  I  would.  I  told  it  her,  and  she  listened  silently, 
save  only  now  and  then  a  cry  of  wonder  or  of  sympathy  that 
sounded  sweet  to  my  ears,  —  just  as  I  had  dreamed  of  her 
listening  when  I  used  to  pace  the  deck  of  the  brigantine  John, 
at  sea.  And  when  at  length  I  had  finished,  she  sat  looking 
out  over  the  Green  Park,  as  tho'  she  had  forgot  my  presence. 

And  so  Mrs.  Manners  came  in  and  found  us. 

It  had  ever  pleased  me  to  imagine  that  Dorothy's  mother 
had  been  in  her  youth  like  Dorothy.  She  had  the  same  tall 
figure,  grace  in  its  every  motion,  and  the  same  eyes  of  deep 
blue,  and  the  generous  but  well-formed  mouth.  A  man  may 
pity,  but  cannot  conceive  the  heroism  that  a  woman  of  such  a 
mould  must  have  gone  through  who  has  been  married  since 
early  girlhood  to  a  man  like  Mr.  Manners.  Some  women  would 
have  been  driven  quickly  to  frivolity,  and  worse,  but  this  one 
had  struggled  year  after  year  to  maintain  an  outward  serenity 
to  a  critical  world,  and  had  succeeded,  tho'  success  had  cost 
her  dear.  Each  trial  had  deepened  a  line  of  that  face,  had 
done  its  share  to  subdue  the  voice  which  had  once  rung  like 


268  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Dorothy's ;  and  in  the  depths  of  her  eyes  lingered  a  sadness 
indefinable. 

She  gazed  upon  me  with  that  kindness  and  tenderness  I  had 
always  received  since  the  days  when,  younger  and  more  beauti- 
ful than  now,  she  was  the  companion  of  my  mother.  And  the 
anbidden  shadow  of  a  thought  came  to  ■  me  that  these  two 
sweet  women  had  had  some  sadness  in  common.  Many  a 
summer's  day  I  remembered  them  sewing  together  in  the 
spring-house,  talking  in  subdued  voices  which  were  hushed 
when  I  came  running  in.  And  lo !  the  same  memory  was  on 
Dorothy's  mother  then,  half  expressed  as  she  laid  her  hands 
upoa  my  shoulders. 

"  Poor  Elizabeth ! "  she  said,  —  not  to  me,  nor  yet  to  Dorothy ; 
■■<  I  wish  that  she  might  have  lived  to  see  you  now.  It  is 
Captain  Jack  again." 

She  sighed,  and  kissed  me.  And  I  felt  at  last  that  I  had 
come  home  after  many  wanderings.  We  sat  down,  mother 
and  daughter  on  the  sofa  with  their  fingers  locked.  She  did 
not  speak  of  Mr.  Manners's  conduct,  or  of  my  stay  in  the 
sponging-house.     And  for  this  I  was  thankful. 

"  I  have  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Lloyd,  Richard,"  she  said. 

"  And  my  grandfather  ? "  I  faltered,  a  thickness  in  my 
throat. 

"My  dear  boy,"  answered  Mrs.  Manners,  gently,  "he  thinks 
you  dead.      But  you  have  written  him  ?  "  she  added  hurriedly. 

I  nodded.     "From  Dumfries." 

"He  will  have  the  letter  soon,"  she  said  cheerfully.  "I 
thank  Heaven  I  am  able  to  tell  you  that  his  health  is  remark- 
able under  the  circumstances.  But  he  will  not  quit  the  house, 
and  sees  no  one  except  your  uncle,  who  is  with  him  con- 
stantly." 

It  was  what  I  expected.  But  the  confirmation  of  it  brought 
me  to  my  feet  in  a  torrent  of  indignation,  exclaiming :  — - 

"  The  villain  !  You  tell  me  he  will  allow  Mr.  Carvel  to  see 
no  one  ?  " 

She  started  forward,  laying  her  hand  on  my  arm,  and  Dorothy 
gave  a  little  cry. 

"  What  are  you  saying,  Richard  ?    What  are  you  saying  ?  " 


ARLINGTON   STREET  269 

"  Mrs.  Manners,"  I  answered,  collecting  myself,  ''  I  must  tel) 
you  that  I  believe  it  is  Grafton  Carvel  himself  that  is  responsi- 
ble for  my  abduction.     He  meant  that  I  should  be  murdered.'' 

Then  Dorothy  rose,  her  eyes  flashing  and  her  head  high. 

"  He  would  have  murdered  you  —  you,  Richard  ?  "  she  cried, 
in  such  a  storm  of  anger  as  I  had  never  seen  her.  "  Oh,  he 
should  hang  for  the  thought  of  it !  I  have  always  suspected 
Grafton  Carvel  capable  of  any  crime ! " 

"  Hush,  Dorothy,"  said  her  mother  j  "  it  is  not  seemly  for  & 
young  girl  to  talk  so." 

"  Seemly ! "  said  Dorothy.  "  If  I  were  a  man  I  would  bring 
him  to  justice,  and  it  took  me  a  lifetime.  Nay,  if  I  were  a 
man  and  could  use  a  sword  — " 

"  Dorothy !  Dorothy  !  "  interrupted  Mrs.  Manners. 

Dorothy  sat  down,  the  light  lingering  in  her  eyes.  She  had 
revealed  more  of  herself  in  that  instant  than  in  all  her  life 
before. 

"  It  is  a  grave  charge,  Richard,"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  at 
length.  "And  your  uncle  is  a  man  of  the  best  standing  in 
Annapolis." 

"  You  must  remember  his  behaviour  before  my  mother'^ 
marriage,  Mrs.  Manners." 

"  I  do,  I  do,  Richard,"  she  said  sadly.  "  And  I  have  nevei 
trusted  him  since.  I  suppose  you  are  not  making  your  accusa- 
tiun  without  cause  ?  " 

"I  have  cause  enough,"  I  answered  bitterly. 

"  And  proof  ?  "  she  added.  She  should  have  been  the  man 
in  her  family. 

I  told  her  how  Harvey  had  overheard  the  bits  of  the  plot  at 
Carvel  Hall  near  two  years  gone  ;  and  now  that  I  had  begun. 
I  was  going  through  with  Mr.  Allen's  part  in  the  conspiracy, 
when  Dorothy  startled  us  both  by  crying :  — 

''  Oh,  there  is  so  much  v/ickedness  in  the  world,  I  wish  I  had 
never  been  born  !  " 

She  flung  herself  from  the  room  in  a  passion  of  tears  to  shock 
me.  As  if  in  answer  to  my  troubled  look,  Mrs.  Manners  said, 
with  a  sigh  :  — 

"  She  has  not  been  at  all  well,  lately,  Richaj'd.     I  fear  the 


270  RICHARD   CARVEL 

gayety  of  this  place  is  too  much  for  her.     Indeed,  I  am  sorry 
we  ever  left  Maryland." 

I  was  greatly  disturbed,  and  thought  involuntarily  of  Comyn's 
words.  Could  it  be  that  Mr.  Manners  was  forcing  her  to  marry 
Chartersea  ? 

"  And  has  Mr.  Lloyd  said  nothing  of  my  uncle  ?  "  I  asked 
after  a  while. 

"  I  will  not  deny  that  ugly  rumours  are  afloat,"  she  answered. 
"  Grafton,  as  you  know,  is  not  liked  in  Annapolis,  especially 
by  the  Patriot  party.  But  there  is  not  the  slightest  ground 
for  suspicion.     The  messenger  —  " 

«  Yes  ?  " 

"  Your  uncle  denies  all  knowledge  of.  He  was  taken  to  be 
the  tool  of  the  captain  of  the  slaver,  and  he  disappeared  so 
completely  that  it  was  supposed  he  had  escaped  to  the  ship. 
The  story  goes  that  you  were  seized  for  a  ransom,  and  killed 
m  the  struggle.  Your  black  ran  all  the  way  to  town,  crying 
the  news  to  those  he  met  on  the  Circle  and  in  West  Street,  but 
by  the  mercy  of  God  he  Avas  stopped  by  Mr.  Swain  and  some 
others  before  he  had  reached  your  grandfather.  In  ten  minutes 
a  score  of  men  were  galloping  out  of  the  Town  Gate,  Mr.  Lloyd 
and  Mr.  Singleton  ahead.  They  found  your  horse  dead,  and 
the  road  through  the  woods  all  trampled  down,  and  they 
spurred  after  the  tracks  down  to  the  water's  edge.  Singleton 
recalled  a  slaver,  the  crew  of  which  had  been  brawling  at  the 
Ship  tavern  a  few  nights  before.  But  the  storm  was  so  thick 
they  could  not  see  the  ship's  length  out  into  the  river.  They 
started  two  fast  sloops  from  the  town  wharves  in  chase,  and 
your  uncle  has  been  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  obtain  some 
clew  of  you.  He  has  put  notices  in  the  newspapers  of  Charles- 
town,  Philadelphia,  New  York,  and  even  Boston,  and  offered  a 
thousand  pounds  reward." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

I  MEET  A  VERY  GREAT  YOUNG  MAN 

The  French  clock  had  struck  four,  and  I  was  beginning  to 
fear  that,  despite  my  note,  the  captain's  pride  forbade  his  coming 
to  Mr.  Manners's  house,  Avhen  in  he  walked,  as  tho'  'twere 
no  novelty  to  have  his  name  announced.  And  so  straight 
and  handsome  was  he,  his  dark  eye  flashing  with  the  self- 
confidence  born  in  the  man,  that  the  look  of  uneasiness  I  had 
detected  upon  Mrs.  Manners's  face  quickly  changed  to  one  of 
surprise  and  pleasure.  Of  coiu  se  the  good  lady  had  anticipated 
a  sea-captain  of  a  far  different  mould.  He  kissed  her  hand  with 
a  respectful  grace,  and  then  her  daughter's,  for  Dorothy  had 
come  back  to  us,  calmer.  And  I  was  filled  with  joy  over  his 
fine  appearance.  Even  Dorothy  was  struck  by  the  change  the 
clothes  had  made  in  him.  Mrs.  Manners  thanked  him  very 
tactfully  for  restoring  me  to  them,  as  she  was  pleased  to  put  it, 
to  which  John  Paul  modestly  replied  that  he  had  done  no 
more  than  another  would  under  the  same  circumstances.  And 
he  soon  had  them  both  charmed  by  his  address. 

"  Why,  Richard,"  said  Dorothy's  mother  aside  to  me,  "  surely 
this  cannot  be  your  sea-captain !  " 

I  nodded  merrily.  But  John  Paul's  greatest  triumph  was 
yet  to  come.  For  presently  Mr.  Marmaduke  arrived  from 
White's,  and  when  he  had  greeted  me  with  effusion  he  levelled 
hid  glass  at  the  corner  of  the  room. 

"  Ahem  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Pray,  my  dear,  whom  have  you 
invited  to-day  ?  "  And  without  awaiting  her  reply,  as  was 
frequently  his  habit,  he  turned  to  me  and  said :  "  I  had  hoped 
we  were  to  have   the   pleasure   of   Captain  Paul's   company^ 

271 


272  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Richard.  For  I  must  have  the  chance  before  you  go  of  clasp- 
ing the  hand  of  your  benefactor." 

"  You  shall  have  the  chance,  at  least,  sir,"  I  replied,  a  fiery 
exultation  in  my  breast.  ''  Mr.  Manners,  this  is  my  friend. 
Captain  Paul." 

The  captain  stood  up  and  bowed  gravely  at  the  little  gentle- 
man's blankly  amazed  countenance. 

"  Ahem,"  said  he ;  "  dear  me,  is  it  possible  !  "  and  advanced 
a  step,  but  the  captain  remained  immovable.  Mr.  Marmaduke 
fumbled  for  his  snuff-box,  failed  to  find  it,  halted,  and  began 
again,  for  he  never  was  known  to  lack  words  for  long  :  "  Cap- 
tain, as  one  of  the  oldest  friends  of  Mr.  Lionel  Carvel  I  claim 
the  right  to  thank  you  in  his  name  for  your  gallant  conduct. 
I  hear  that  you  are  soon  to  see  him,  and  to  receive  his  obliga- 
tions from  him  in  person.  You  will  not  find  him  lacking,  sir, 
I'll  warrant." 

Such  was  Mr.  Marmaduke's  feline  ingenuity  !  I  had  a  retort 
ready,  and  I  saw  that  Mrs.  Manners,  long  tried  in  such  occa- 
sions, was  about  to  pour  oil  on  the  waters.  But  it  was  Dorothy 
who  exclaimed :  — 

"  What,  captain !  are  you,  too,  going  to  Maryland  ?  " 

John  Paul  reddened. 

"Ay,  that  he  is,  Dolly,"  I  cut  in  hurriedly.  "Did  you 
imagine  I  would  let  him  escape  so  easily  ?  Henceforth,  as  he 
has  said,  he  is  to  be  an  American." 

She  flashed  at  me  such  a  look  as  might  have  had  a  dozen 
different  meanings,  and  in  a  trice  it  was  gone  again  under  her 
dark  lashes. 

Dinner  was  got  through  I  know  not  how.  Mr.  Manners  led 
the  talk,  and  spoke  more  than  was  needful  concerning  our 
approaching  voyage.  He  was  at  great  j^ains  to  recommend 
the  Virginia  packet,  which  had  made  the  fastest  passage  from 
the  Capes;  and  she  sailed,  as  was  no  doubt  most  conven- 
ient, the  Saturday  following.  I  should  find  her  a  comfortable 
vessel,  and  he  would  oblige  me  with  a  letter  to  Captain  Alsop. 
Did  Captain  Paul  know  him  ?  But  the  captain  was  describ- 
ing West  Indian  life  to  Mrs.  Manners.  Dorothy  had  little  to 
§ay  ;    and  as  for  me,  I  was  in  no  very  pleasant  humour.     I 


A  VERY   GREAT   YOUNG  MAN  1^73 

gave  a  deaf  ear  to  Mr.  Marniaduke's  sallies,  to  speculate  on  the 
nature  of  the  disgrace  which  Chartersea  was  said  to  hold  over 
his  head.  And  twenty  times,  as  I  looked  upon  Dolly's  beauty, 
I  ground  my  teeth  at  the  notion  of  returning  home.  I  have 
ever  been  slow  of  suspicion,  but  suddenly  it  struck  me  sharply 
that  Mr.  Manners's  tactics  must  have  a  deeper  significance 
than  I  had  thought.  Why  was  it  that  he  feared  my  presence 
in  London  ? 

As  we  made  our  way  back  to  the  drawing-room,  I  was  hop- 
ing for  a  talk  with  Dolly  (alas  !  I  should  not  have  many  more), 
when  I  heard  a  voice  which  sounded  strangely  familiar. 

"  You  know,  Comyn,"  it  was  saying,  "  you  know  I  should 
be  at  the  Princess's  were  I  not  so  completely  worn  out.  I  was 
up  near  all  of  last  night  with  Rosette." 

Mr.  Marmaduke,  entering  before  us,  cried :  — 

"  The  dear  creature !  I  trust  you  have  had  medical  attend- 
ance, Mr.  Walpole." 

"  Egad ! "  quoth  Horry  (for  it  was  he),  "  I  sent  Favre  to 
Harapstead  to  fetch  Dr.  Pratt,  where  he  was  attending  some 
mercer's  wife.  It  seems  that  Rosette  had  got  into  the  street 
and  eaten  something  horrible  out  of  the  kennel.  I  discharged 
the  footman,  of  course." 

"A  plague  on  your  dog,  Horry,"  said  my  Lord,  yawning, 
and  was  about  to  add  something  worse,  when  he  caught  sight 
of  Dorothy. 

Mr.  Walpole  bowed  over  her  hand. 

"  And  have  you  forgotten  so  soon  your  Windsor  acquaint- 
ances, Mr.  Walpole  ?  "  .she  asked,  laughing. 

"  Bless  me,"  said  Horry,  looking  very  hard  at  me,  "  so  it 
is,  so  it  is.  Your  hand,  Mr.  Carvel.  You  have  only  to  remain 
in  London,  sir,  to  discover  that  your  reputation  is  ready-made. 
I  contributed  my  mite.  For  you  must  know  that  I  am  a  sort 
of  circulating  library  of  odd  news  which  those  devils,  the 
printers,  contrive  to  get  sooner  or  later  —  Heaven  knows  how ! 
And  Miss  Manners  herself  has  completed  your  fame.  Yes, 
the  story  of  your  gallant  rescue  is  in  all  the  clubs  to-day. 
Egad,  sir,  you  come  down  heads  up,  like  a  loaded  coin.  You 
will  soon  be  a  factor  in  Change  Alley."     And  glancing  slyly 

T 


274  RICHARD   CARVEL 

at  the  blushing  Dolly,  he  continued:  "I  have  been  many 
things,  Miss  Manners,  but  never  before  an  instrument  of  Provi- 
dence. And  so  you  discovered  your  rough  diamond  yester- 
day, and  have  polished  him  in  a  day.  0  that  Dr.  Franklin 
had  profited  as  well  by  our  London  tailors !  The  rogue  never 
told  me,  when  he  was  ordering  me  about  in  his  swan-skin,  that 
he  had  a  friend  in  Arlington  Street,  and  a  reigning  beauty. 
But  I  like  him  the  better  for  it." 

"  And  I  the  worse,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  perceive  that  he  still  retains  his  body-guard,"  said  Mr. 
Walpole ;   "  Captain  —  " 

"  Paul,"  said  Dolly,  seeing  that  we  would  not  help  him  out. 

"  Ah,  yes.  These  young  princes  from  the  New  World  must 
have  their  suites.  You  must  bring  them  both  some  day  to 
my  little  castle  at  Strawberry  Hill." 

"  Unfortunately,  Mr.  Walpole,  Mr.  Carvel  finds  that  he  must 
return  to  America,"  Mr.  Marmaduke  interjected.  He  had 
been  waiting  to  get  in  this  word, 

Comyn  nudged  me  And  I  took  the  opportunity,  in  the 
awkward  silence  that  followed,  to  thank  Mr.  Walpole  for 
sending  his  coach  after  us. 

"  And  pray  where  did  you  get  your  learning  ? "  he  de- 
manded abruptly  of  the  captain,  in  his  most  patronizing  way. 
"Your  talents  are  wasted  at  sea,  sir.  You  should  try  your 
fortune  in  London,  where  you  shall  be  under  my  protection, 
sir.  They  shall  not  accuse  me  again  of  stifling  young  genius. 
Stay,"  he  cried,  warming  with  generous  enthusiasm,  "  stay,  I 
have  an  opening.  'Twas  but  yesterday  Lady  Cretherton  told 
me  that  she  stood  in  need  of  a  tutor  for  her  youngest  son,  and 
you  shall  have  the  position." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  I  shall  not  have  the  position,"  said 
John  Paul,  coolly.  And  Horry  might  have  heeded  the  danger 
signal.  I  had  seen  it  more  than  once  on  board  the  brigantine 
John,  and  knew  what  Avas  coming. 

"  Faith,  and  why  not,  sir  ?  If  I  recommend  you,  why  not, 
sir  ?  " 

"Because  I  shall  not  take  it,"  he  said.  "I  have  my  pro- 
fession, Mr.  Walpole,  and  it  is  an  honourable  one.     And  J 


A  VERY  GREAT  YOUNG  MAN       275 

would  not  exchange  it,  sir,  were  it  in  your  power  to  make 
me  a  Gibbon  or  a  Hume,  or  tutor  to  his  Royal  Highness, 
which  it  is  not." 

Thus,  for  the  second  time,  the  weapon  of  the  renowned 
master  of  Strawberry  was  knocked  from  his  hand  at  a  single 
stroke  of  his  strange  adversary.  I  should  like  to  describe 
John  Paul  as  he  made  that  speech,  —  for  'twas  not  so  much 
the  speech  as  the  atmosphere  of  it.  Those  who  heard  and 
saw  were  stirred  with  wonder,  for  Destiny  lay  bare  that 
instant,  just  as  the  powers  above  are  sometimes  revealed  at  a 
single  lightning-bolt.  Mr.  Walpole  made  a  reply  that  strove 
hard  to  be  indifferent ;  Mr.  Marmaduke  stuttered,  for  he  was 
frightened,  as  little  souls  are  apt  to  be  at  such  times.  But 
my  Lord  Comyn,  forever  natural,  forever  generous,  cried  out 
heartily :  — 

"  Egad,  captain,  there  you  are  a  true  sailor !  Which  would  you 
rather  have  been,  1  say,  William  Shakespeare  or  Sir  Francis  ?  " 

"  Which  would  you  rather  be,  Richard,"  said  Dolly  to  me, 
under  her  breath,  "  Horace  Walpole  or  Captain  John  Paul  ? 
T  begin  to  like  your  captain  better." 

Willy  nilly,  Mr.  Walpole  was  forever  doing  me  a  service. 
JTow,  in  order  to  ignore  the  captain  more  completely,  he  sat 
him  down  to  engage  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Manners.  Comyn  was 
soon  hot  in  an  argument  with  John  Paul  concerning  the  sea- 
going qualities  of  a  certain  frigate,  every  rope  and  spar  of 
which  they  seemed  to  know.  And  so  I  stole  a  few  moments 
with  Dorothy. 

"  You  are  going  to  take  the  captain  to  Maryland.  Richard  ?  " 
she  asked,  playing  with  her  fan. 

"  I  intend  to  get  him  the  Belle  of  the  Wye.  "Tis  the  least  I 
can  do.  For  I  am  at  my  wits'  end  how  to  reward  him,  Dolly. 
And  when  are  you  coming  back  ? "  I  whispered  earnestly, 
seeing  her  silent. 

"  I  would  that  I  knew,  Richard,"  she  replied,  with  a  certain 
sadness  that  went  to  my  heart,  as  tho'  the  choice  lay  beyond 
her.  Then  she  changed.  "Richard,  there  was  more  in  Mr. 
Lloyd's  letter  than  mamma  told  you  of.  There  w  as  ill  news  of 
one  of  your  friends.'* 


276  EICHARD   CAEVEL 

« 111  news  !  " 

She  looked  at  me  fixedly,  and  then  continued,  her  voice  so 
low  that  I  was  forced  to  bend  over :  — 

"  Yes.  You  were  not  told  that  Patty  Swain  fell  in  a  faint 
when  she  heard  of  your  disappearance.  You  were  not  told 
that  the  girl  was  ill  for  a  week  afterwards.  Ah,  Richard,  I 
fear  you  are  a  sad  flirt.  l^Jay,  you  may  benefit  by  the  doubt, 
—  perchance  you  are  going  home  to  be  married." 

You  may  be  sure  that  this  intelligence,  from  Dorothy's  lips, 
only  increased  my  trouble  and  perplexity. 

"  You  say  that  Patty  has  been  ill  ?  " 

"  Very  ill,"  says  she,  with  her  lips  tight  closed. 

"  Indeed,  I  grieve  to  hear  of  it,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  I  cannot 
think  that  my  accident  had  anything  to  do  with  the  matter." 

'^  Young  ladies  do  not  send  their  fathers  to  coffee-houses  to 
prevent  duels  unless  their  feelings  are  engaged,"  she  flung 
back. 

"  You  have  heard  the  story  of  that  affair,  Dorothy.  At  least 
enough  of  it  to  do  me  justice." 

She  was  plainly  agitated. 

''  Has  Lord  Comyn  —  " 

*'  Lord  Comyn  has  told  you  the  truth,"  I  said ;  "  so  much  I 
know." 

Alas  for  the  exits  and  entrances  of  life '  Here  comes  the 
footman. 

"  Mr.  Fox,"  said  he,  rolling  the  name,  for  it  was  a  great 
one. 

Confound  Mr.  Fox!  He  might  have  waited  five  short 
minutes. 

It  was,  in  truth,  none  other  than  that  precocious  marvel 
of  England  who  but  a  year  before  had  taken  the  breath  from 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  had  sent  his  fame  flying  over  the 
Channel  and  across  the  wide  Atlantic;  the  talk  of  London, 
who  set  the  fashions,  cringed  not  before  white  hairs,  or  royalty, 
or  customs,  or  institutions,  and  was  now,  at  one  and  twenty. 
Junior  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  —  Charles  James  Fox.  His 
face  was  dark,  forbidding,  even  harsh  —  until  he  smiled.  His 
eyebrows  were  heavy  and  shaggy,  and  his  features  of  a  rounded, 


A   VERY   GREAT   YOUNG   MAN  27? 

almost  Jewish  mould.  He  put  me  in  mind  of  the  Stuarts,  and 
I  was  soon  to  learn  that  he  was  descended  from  them. 

As  he  entered  the  room  I  recall  remarking  that  he  was  pos- 
sessed of  the  supremest  confidence  of  any  man  I  had  ever  met. 
Mrs.  Manners  he  greeted  in  one  way,  Mr.  Marmaduke  in 
another,  and  Mr.  Walpole  in  still  another.  To  Comyn  it  was 
"  Hello,  Jack,"  as  he  walked  by  him.  Each,  as  it  were,  had 
been  tagged  with  a  particular  value. 

Chagrined  as  I  was  at  the  interruption,  I  was  struck  with 
admiration.  For  the  smallest  actions  of  these  rare  men  of 
master  passions  so  compel  us.  He  came  to  Dorothy,  whom  he 
seemed  not  to  have  perceived  at  first,  and  there  passed  between 
them  such  a  look  of  complete  understanding  that  I  suddenly 
remembered  Comyn's  speech  of  the  night  before,  "  Now  it  is 
Charles  Fox."  Here,  indeed,  was  the,  man  who  might  have  won 
her.  And  yet  I  did  not  hate  him.  Nay,  I  loved  him  from  the  first 
toe  he  addressed  me.     It  was  Dorothy  who  introduced  us. 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  of  you,  Mr,  Carvel,"  he  said,  making 
a  barely  perceptible  wink  at  Comyn. 

"  And  I  think  I  have  heard  of  you,  Mr.  Fox,"  I  replied. 

"  The  deuce  you  have,  Mr,  Carvel ! "  said  he,  and  laughed. 
And  Comyn  laughed,  and  Dorothy  laughed,  and  I  laughed. 
We  were  friends  from  that  moment, 

"  Richard  has  appeared  amongst  us  like  a  comet,"  put  in  the 
ubiquitous  Mr.  Manners,  "  and,  I  fear,  intends  to  disappear 
in  like  manner." 

"  And  where  is  the  tail  of  this  comet  ? "  demanded  Fox, 
instantly;  "for  I  understood  there  was  a  tail." 

John  Paul  was  brought  up,  and  the  Junior  Lord  of  the 
Admiralty  looked  him  over  from  head  to  toe.  And  what,  my 
dears,  do  you  think  he  said  to  him  ? 

"  Have  you  ever  acted,  Captain  Paul  ?  " 

The  captain  started  back  in  surprise, 

"  Acted  ! "  he  exclaimed ;  "  really,  sir,  I  do  not  know.  I 
have  never  been  upon  the  boards." 

Mr,  Fox  vowed  that  he  could  act:  that  he  was  sure  of  it, 
from  the  captain's  appearance. 

"  And  I,  too,  am  sure  of  it,  Mr.  Fox,"  cried  Dorothy,  clap 


ti78  EICHARD   CARVEL 

ping  lier  hands.  "  Persuade  him  to  stay  awhile  in  London,  that 
you  may  have  him  at  your  next  theatricals  at  Holland  House. 
Why,  he  knows  Shakespeare  and  Pope  and  —  and  Chaucer  by 
heart,  and  Ovid  and  Horace,  — is  it  not  so,  Mr.  Walpole  ?  " 

"  Is  not  what  so,  my  dear  young  lady  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Wal- 
pole, pretending  not  to  have  heard. 

"  There  ! "  exclaimed  Dolly,  pouting,  when  the  laughter  had 
subsided ;  "you  make  believe  to  care  something  about  me,  and 
yet  will  not  listen  to  what  I  say." 

I  had  seen  at  her  feet  our  own  Maryland  gallants,  the  long- 
est of  whose  reputations  stretched  barely  from  the  James  to 
the  Schuylkill ;  but  here  in  London  men  were  hanging  on  her 
words  whose  names  were  familiarly  spoken  in  Paris,  and  Eome, 
and  Geneva.  Not  a  topic  was  broached  by  Mr.  Walpole  or 
Mr.  Fox,  from  the  remonstrance  of  the  Archbishop  against 
masquerades  and  the  coming  marriage  of  my  Lord  Albemarle 
to  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  Mr.  Wilkes,  but  my  lady  had  her 
say.  Mrs.  Manners  seemed  more  than  content  that  she  should 
play  the  hostess,  which  she  did  to  perfection.  She  contrived 
to  throw  poisoned  darts  at  the  owner  of  Strawberry  that 
started  little  Mr.  Marmaduke  to  fidgeting  in  his  seat,  and  he 
came  to  the  rescue  with  all  the  town-talk  at  his  command. 
He  knew  little  else.  Could  Mr.  Walpole  tell  hira  of  this  club 
of  both  sexes  just  started  at  Almack's  ?  Mr.  Walpole  could 
tell  a  deal,  tho'  he  took  the  pains  first  to  explain  that  he  Avas 
becoming  too  old  for  such  frivolous  and  fashionable  society. 
He  could  not,  for  the  life  of  him,  say  why  he  was  included. 
But,  in  spite  of  Mr.  Walpole,  John  Paul  was  led  out  in  the 
paces  that  best  suited  him,  and  finally,  to  the  undisguised 
delight  of  Mr.  Fox,  managed  to  trip  Horry  upon  an  obscure 
point  in  Athenian  literature.    And  this  broke  up  the  company. 

As  we  took  our  leave  Dorothy  and  Mr.  Fox  were  talking 
together  with  lowered  voices. 

"  I  shall  see  you  before  I  go,"  I  said  to  her. 

She  laughed,  and  glanced  at  Mr.  Fox. 

"You  are  not  going,  Richard  Carvel,"  said  she. 

"  That  you  are  not,  Richard  Carvel,"  said  Mr.  Fox. 

I  smiled,  rather  lamely,  I  fear,  and  said  good  night. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

A   CONSPIRACY 

"  Bakks,  where  is  the  captain  ?  "  I  asked,  as  I  entered  thp 
parlour  the  next  morning. 

"  Gone,  sir,  since  seven  o'clock,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Gone !  "  I  exclaimed ;  "  gone  where  ?  " 

"Faith,  I  did  not  ask  his  honour,  sir." 

I  thought  it  strange,  but  reflected  that  John  Paul  was  given 
to  whims.  Having  so  little  time  before  him,  he  had  probably 
gone  to  see  the  sights  he  had  missed  3'esterday :  the  Pantheon, 
which  was  building,  an  account  of  which  had  appeared  in  all 
the  colonial  papers ;  or  the  new  Blackfriars  Bridge ;  or  the 
Tower;  or  perhaps  to  see  his  Majesty  ride  out.  The  wonders 
of  London  might  go  hang,  for  all  I  cared.  Who  would  gaze 
at  the  King  when  he  might  look  upon  Dorothy !  I  sighed. 
I  bade  Banks  dress  me  in  the  new  suit  Davenport  had  brought 
that  morning,  and  then  sent  him  off  to  seek  the  shipping  agent 
of  the  Virginia  packet  to  get  us  a  cabin.  I  would  go  to  Arling- 
ton Street  as  soon  as  propriety  admitted. 

But  I  had  scarce  finished  my  chocolate  and  begun  to  smoke 
in  a  pleasant  revery,  when  I  was  startled  by  the  arrival  of 
two  gentlemen.  One  was  Comyn,  and  the  other  none  less 
than  Mr.  Charles  Fox. 

"  Now  where  the  devil  has  j^our  captain  flown  to  ?  "  said 
my  Lord,  tossing  his  whip  on  the  table. 

"  I  believe  he  must  be  sight-seeing,"  I  said.  "  I  dare  swear 
he  has  taken  a  hackney  coach  to  the  Tower." 

"  To  see  the  liberation  of  the  idol  of  the  people,  I'll  lay  ten 
guineas.  But  they  say  the  great  Mr.  Wilkes  is  to  come  out 
quietly,  and  wishes   no   demonstration,"  said   Mr.    Fox.     "J 

279 


280  KICHARD   CARVEL 

believe  the  beggar  has  some  sense,  if  the  oi  ttoXXol  would  onlj' 
let  him  have  his  way.  So  your  captain  is  a  Wilkite,  Mr, 
Carvel  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  fear  you  run  very  fast  to  conclusions,  Mr.  Pox,"  I  an- 
swered, laughing,  tho'  I  thought  his  guess  was  not  far  from 
wrong. 

"I'll  lay  you  the  ten  guineas  he  has  been  to  the  Tower," 
said  Mr.  Fox,  promptly. 

"  Done,  sir,"  said  I. 

"  Hark  ye,  Eichard,"  said  Comyn,  stretching  himself  in  an 
arm-chair ;  "  we  are  come  to  take  the  wind  out  of  your  sails, 
and  leave  you  without  an  excuse  for  going  home.  And  we 
want  your  captain,  alive  or  dead.  Charles,  here,  is  to  give 
him  a  commission  in  his  Majesty's  Navy." 

Then  I  knew  why  Dorothy  had  laughed  when  I  had  spoken 
of  seeing  her  again.  Comyn  —  bless  him!  —  had  told  her  of 
his  little  scheme. 

<'  Egad,  Charles ! "  cried  his  Lordship,  "  to  look  at  his 
glum  face,  one  might  think  we  were  a  couple  of  Jews  who 
had  cornered  him." 

Alas  for  the  perversity  of  the  heart!  Instead  of  leaping 
for  joy,  as  no  doubt  they  had  both  confidently  expected,  I 
was  both  troubled  and  perplexed  by  this  unlooked-for  news. 
Oak,  when  bent,  is  even  harder  to  bend  back  again.  And  so 
it  has  ever  been  with  me.  I  had  determined,  after  a  bitter 
struggle,  to  go  to  Maryland,  and  had  now  become  used  to 
that  prospect.  I  was  anxious  to  see  my  grandfather,  and  to 
confront  Grafton  Carvel  with  his  villany.  And  there  was 
John  Paul.     What  would  he  think? 

"What  ails  you,  Richard?"  Comyn  demanded  somewnat 
testily. 

"  Nothing,  Jack,"  I  replied.  "I  thank  you  from  my  heart, 
and  you,  Mr.  Fox.  I  know  that  commissions  are  not  to  be 
had  for  the  asking,  and  I  rejoice  with  the  captain  over  his 
good  fortune.  But,  gentlemen."  I  said  soberly,  "I  had  most 
selfishly  hoped  that  I  might  be  able  to  do  a  service  to  John 
Paul  in  return  for  his  charity  to  me.  You  offer  him  something 
nearer  his  deserts,  something  beyond  my  power  to  give  him." 


A  CONSPIRACY  281 

Fox's  eyes  kindled. 

"  You  speak  like  a  man,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  he.  "  But  you 
are  too  modest.  Damn  it,  sir,  don't  you  see  that  it  is  you, 
and  no  one  else,  who  has  procured  this  commission  ?  Had 
I  not  been  taken  with  you,  sir,  I  should  scarce  have  promised 
it  to  your  friend  Comyn,  through  whose  interest  you  obtain 
it  for  your  protege." 

I  remembered  what  Mr.  Fox's  enemies  said  of  him,  and 
smiled  at  the  plausible  twist  he  had  given  the  facts. 

"  No,"  I  said ;  "  no,  Mr.  Fox ;  never  that.  The  captain 
must  not  think  that  I  wish  to  be  rid  of  him.  I  will  not 
stand  in  the  way,  though  if  it  is  to  be  offered  him,  he  must 
comprehend  that  I  had  naught  to  do  with  the  matter.  But, 
sir,"  I  continued  curiously,  "  what  do  you  know  of  John 
Paul's  abilities  an  an  officer  ?  " 

Mr.  Fox  and  Comyn  laughed  so  immoderately  as  to  bring 
the  blood  to  my  face. 

"  Damme  ! "  cried  the  Junior  Lord,  "  but  you  Americans  have 
odd  consciences !  Do  you  suppose  Rigby  Avas  appointed  Pay- 
master of  the  Forces  because  of  his  fitness  ?  Why  was  North 
himself  made  Prime  Minister  ?  For  his  abilities  ?  "  And  he 
broke  down  again.  "Ask  Jack,  here,  how  he  got  into  the 
service,  and  how  much  seamanship  he  knows." 

"Faith,"  answered  Jack,  unblushingly,  "Admiral  Lord 
Comyn,  my  father,  wished  me  to  serve  awhile.  And  so  I  have 
taken  two  cruises,  delivered  some  score  of  commands,  and 
scarce  know  a  supple  jack  from  a  can  of  flip.  Cursed  if  I  see 
the  fun  of  it  in  these  piping  times  o'  peace,  so  I  have  given  it 
up,  Richard.  For  Charles  says  this  Falkland  business  with 
Spain  will  blow  out  of  the  touch-hole." 

I  could  see  little  to  laugh  over.  For  the  very  rottenness  of 
the  service  was  due  to  the  miserable  and  servile  Ministry  and 
Parliament  of  his  Majesty,  by  means  of  which  instruments  he 
was  forcing  the  colonies  to  the  wall.  Verily,  that  was  a  time 
when  the  greatness  of  England  hung  in  the  balance !  How 
little  T  suspected  that  the  young  man  then  seated  beside  me, 
who  had  cast  so  unthinkingly  his  mighty  powers  on  the  side 
of  corruption,  was  to  be  one  of  the  chief  instruments  of  her 


282  KICHARD   CARVEL 

salvation !  We  were  to  fight  George  the  Third  across  tlie  seas. 
He  was  to  wage  no  less  courageous  a  battle  at  home,  in  the 
King's  own  capital.  And  the  cause  ?  Yes,  the  cause  was  to 
be  the  same  as  that  of  the  Mr.  Wilkes  he  reviled,  who  obtained 
his  liberty  that  day. 

At  length  John  Paul  came  in,  calling  my  name.  He  broke 
oft  abruptly  at  sight  of  the  visitors. 

"  Now  we  shall  decide,"  said  Mr.  Fox.  "  Captain,  I  have 
bet  Mr.  Carvel  ten  guineas  you  have  been  to  the  Tower  to  see 
Squinting  Jack  ^  get  his  liberty  at  last." 

The  captain  looked  astonished. 

"  Anan,  then,  you  have  lost,  Richard,"  said  he.  "  For  I  have 
been  just  there." 

"  And  helped,  no  doubt,  to  carry  off  the  champion  on  your 
shoulders,"  said  Mr.  Fox,  sarcastically,  as"I  paid  the  debt. 

"  Mr.  Wilkes  knows  full  well  the  value  of  moderation,  sir,'' 
replied  the  captain,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  Well,  damn  the  odds  !  "  exclaimed  the  Junior  Lord,  laugh- 
ing. "  You  may  have  the  magic  number  tattooed  all  over  your 
back,  for  all  I  care.     You  shall  have  the  commission." 

"  The  commission  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Fox,  carelessly  ;  "  I  intend  making  you  a  lieu- 
tenant, sir,  in  the  Royal  Navj^" 

The  moment  the  words  were  out  1  was  a-tremble  as  to  how 
he  would  take  the  offer.  For  he  had  a  certain  puzzling  pride, 
which  flew  hither  and  thither.  But  there  was  surely  no  com- 
parison between  the  situations  of  the  master  of  the  Belle  of 
the  Wye  and  an  officer  in  the  Royal  Navy.  There,  his  talents 
would  make  him  an  admiral,  and  doubtless  give  him  the  social 
position  he  secretly  coveted.  He  confounded  us  all  by  his 
answer. 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Fox.  But  I  cannot  accept  your  kind- 
ness." 

"  'Slife ! "  said  Fox,  "  you  refuse  ?  And  you  know  what 
you  are  doing  ?  " 

"  I  know  usually,  sir." 

Comyn  swore.     My  exclamation  had  something  of  relief  in  it. 

1  John  Wilkes. 


A  CONSPIRACY  283 

"  Captain,"  I  said,  "  I  felt  that  I  could  not  stand  in  the  waj 
of  this.  It  has  been  my  hope  that  you  will  come  with  me,  and 
I  have  sent  this  morning  after  a  cabin  on  the  Virginia.  You 
must  know  that  Mr.  Fox's  offer  is  his  own,  and  Lord  Comyn's." 

"I  know  it  well,  Richard.  I  have  not  lived  these  three 
months  with  you  for  nothing."  His  voice  seemed  to  fail  him. 
He  drew  near  me  and  took  my  hand.  "  But  did  you  think  ] 
would  require  of  you  the  sacrifice  of  leaving  London  now  ?  " 

"  It  is  my  pleasure  as  well  as  my  duty,  captain." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  like  that.  Yesterday  I  went  to 
the  city  to  see  a  shipowner  whose  acquaintance  I  made  when 
he  was  a  master  in  the  West  India  trade.  He  has  had  some 
reason  to  know  that  I  can  handle  a  ship.  Never  mind  what. 
•And  he  has  given  me  the  bark  Betsy,  whose  former  master  is 
lately  dead  of  the  small-pox.     Richard,  I  sail  to-morrow." 

In  Dorothy's  coach  to  Whitehall  Stairs,  by  the  grim  old  pal- 
ace out  of  whose  window  Charles  the  Martyr  had  walked  to 
his  death.  For  Dorothy  had  vowed  it  was  her  pleasure  to  see 
John  Paul  off,  and  who  could  stand  in  her  way  ?  Surely  not 
Mr.  Marmaduke !  and  Mrs.  Manners  laughingly  acquiesced. 
Our  spirits  were  such  that  we  might  have  been  some  honest 
mercer's  apprentice  and  his  sweetheart  away  for  an  outing. 

"  If  we  should  take  a  wherry,  Richard,"  said  Dolly,  "  who 
would  know  of  it  ?  I  have  longed  to  be  in  a  wherry  ever  since 
I  came  to  London." 

The  rivei'  was  smiling  as  she  tripped  gayly  down  to  the 
water,  and  the  red-coated  watermen  were  smiling,  too,  and 
nudging  one  another.  But  little  cared  we  !  Dolly  in  holiday 
humour  stopped  for  naught.  "Boat,  your  honour!  Boat, 
boat !  To  Rotherhithe  —  Redriff  ?  Two  and  six  apiece,  sir." 
For  that  intricate  puzzle  called  human  nature  was  solved  out 
of  hand  by  the  Thames  watermen.  Here  was  a  young  gentle- 
man who  never  heard  of  the  Lord  Mayor's  scale  of  charges. 
And  what  was  a  shilling  to  such  as  he  !  Intricate  puzzle,  in- 
deed !  Any  booby  might  have  read  upon  the  young  man's  face 
that  secret  which  is  written  for  all,  —  high  and  low,  rich  and 
poor  alike. 


284  RICHARD   CARVEL 

My  new  lax^e  handkerchief  was  down  upon  the  seat,  lesl 
Dolly  soil  her  bright  pink  lutestring.  She  should  have  worn 
nothing  else  but  the  hue  of  roses.  How  the  bargemen  stared, 
and  the  passengers  craned  their  necks,  and  the  'longshoremen 
stopped  their  work  as  we  shot  past  them !  On  her  account  a 
barrister  on  the  Temple  Stairs  was  near  to  letting  fall  his  bag 
in  the  water.  A  lady  in  a  wherry !  Where  were  the  whims 
of  the  quality  to  lead  them  next  ?  Past  the  tall  water-tower 
and  York  Stairs,  the  idlers  under  the  straight  row  of  trees 
leaning  over  the  high  river  wall ;  past  Adelphi  Terrace,  where 
the  great  Garrick  lived ;  past  the  white  columns  of  Somerset 
House,  with  its  courts  and  fountains  and  alleys  and  archi- 
tecture of  all  ages,  and  its  river  gate  where  many  a  gilded 
royal  barge  had  lain,  and  many  a  fine  ambassador  had  arrived' 
in  state  over  the  great  highway  of  England ;  past  the  ancient, 
trees  in  the  Temple  Gardens,  And  then  under  the  new 
Blackfriars  Bridge  to  Southwark,  dingy  with  its  docks  and 
breweries  and  huddled  houses,  but  forever  famous,  —  the  South 
wark  of  Shakespeare  and  .Jonson  and  Beaumont  and  Fletcher 
And  the  shelf  upon  which  they  stood  in  the  library  at  Carve. 
Hall  was  before  my  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolly ;  "  and  I  recall  your  mother's  name  written 
in  faded  ink  upon  the  fly-leaves." 

Ah,  London  Town,  by  what  subtleties  are  you  tied  to  the 
hearts  of  those  born  across  the  sea  ?  That  is  one  of  the  mys- 
teries of  race. 

Under  the  pointed  arches  of  old  London  Bridge,  with  its 
hooded  shelters  for  the  weary,  to  where  the  massive  Tower 
had  frowned  for  ages  upon  the  foolish  river.  And  then  the 
forest  of  ships,  and  the  officious  throng  of  little  Avherries  and 
lighters  that  pressed  around  them,  seeming  to  say,  "You 
clumsy  giants,  how  helpless  would  you  be  without  us!"  Soon 
our  own  wherry  was  dodging  among  them,  ships  brought 
hither  by  the  four  winds  of  the  seas;  many  discharging  in 
the  stream,  some  in  the  docks  then  beginning  to  be  built,  and 
hugging  the  huge  warehouses.  Hides  from  frozen  Russia  were 
piled  high  beside  barrels  of  sugar  and  rum  from  the  moist 
island  cane-fields  of  the  Indies,  and  pipes  of  wine  from  the 


A  CONSPIRACY  285 

sunny  hillsides  of  France,  and  big  boxes  of  tea  bearing  the 
hall-mark  of  the  mysterious  East.  Dolly  gazed  in  wonder. 
And  I  was  commanded  to  show  her  a  schooner  like  the  Black 
Moll,  and  a  brigantiue  like  the  John. 

"  And  Captain  Paul  told  me  you  climbed  the  masts,  Richard, 
and  worked  like  a  common  seaman.  Tell  me,"  says  she,  point- 
ing at  the  royal  yard  of  a  tall  East  Indiaman,  "  did  you  go  as 
high  as  that  when  it  was  rough  ?  " 

And,  hugely  to  the  boatman's  delight,  the  minx  must  needs 
put  her  fingers  on  the  hard  welts  on  my  hands,  and  vow  she 
would  be  a  sailor  and  she  were  a  man.  But  at  length  we  came 
to  a  trim-built  bark  lying  off  Redriff  Stairs,  with  the  words 
*'  Betsy,  of  London,"  -painted  across  her  stern.  In  no  time  at 
all,  Captain  Paul  was  down  the  gangway  ladder  and  at  the 
water-side,  to  hand  Dorothy  out. 

"  This  honour  overwhelms  me.  Miss  Manners,"  he  said ;  "  but 
I  know  whom  to  thank  for  it."     And  he  glanced  slyly  at  me. 

Dorothy  stepped  aboard  with  the  air  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
come  to  inspect  Lord  Howard's  flagship. 

"  Then  you  will  thank  me,"  said  she.  "  Why,  I  could  eat 
lay  dinner  off  your  deck,  captain  I  Are  all  merchantmen  so 
clean  ?  " 

John  Paul  smiled. 

"  Not  all,  jMiss  Manners,"  he  said. 

"  And  you  are  still  sailing  at  the  ebb  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  In  an  hour,  Richard,  if  the  wind  holds  good." 

With  what  pride  he  showed  us  over  his  ship,  the  sailors 
gaping  at  the  fine  young  lady.  It  had  taken  him  just  a  day 
to  institute  his  navy  discipline.  And  Dolly  went  about  ex- 
claiming, and  asking  an  hundred  questions,  and  merrily  cate- 
chising me  upon  the  run  of  the  ropes.  All  was  ordei-  and 
readiness  for  dropping  down  the  stream  when  he  led  us  into 
his  cabin,  where  he  had  a  bottle  of  wine  and  some  refresh- 
ments laid  out  against  my  coming. 

"  Had  I  presumed  to  anticipate  your  visit.  Miss  Manners,  I 
should  have  had  something  more  suitable  for  a  lady,"  he  said. 
"  What,  you  will  not  eat,  either,  Richard  ?  " 

I  could  not,  so  downcast  had  I  become  at  the  thought  of 


286  RICHARD   CARVEL 

parting.  I  had  sat  up  half  the  night  before  with  him  in  rest 
less  argument  and  indecision,  and  even  when  he  had  left  for 
Rotherhithe,  early  that  morning,  my  mind  had  not  been  made. 
My  conscience  had  insisted  that  I  should  sail  with  John  Paul ; 
that  I  might  never  see  my  dear  grandfather  on  earth  again.  I 
had  gone  to  Arlington  Street  that  morning  resolved  to  say  fare- 
well to  Dorothy.  I  will  not  recount  the  history  of  that  defeat, 
my  dears.  Nay,  to  this  day  I  know  not  how  she  accomplished 
the  matter.  Not  once  had  she  asked  me  to  remain,  or  referred 
to  my  going.  Nor  had  I  spoken  of  it,  weakling  that  I  was. 
She  had  come  down  in  the  pink  lutestring,  smiling  but  pale ; 
and  traces  of  tears  in  her  eyes,  I  thought.  From  that  moment 
I  knew  that  I  was  defeated.  It  was  she  herself  who  had  prO' 
posed  going  with  me  to  see  the  Betsy  sail. 

"I  will  drink  some  Madeira  to  wish  you  Godspeed,  cap- 
tain," I  said. 

*'  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Richard  ? "  Dolly  cried ; 
"you  are  as  sour  as  my  Lord  Sandwich  after  a  bad  Newmar- 
ket. Why,  captain,"  said  she,  "I  really  believe  he  wants  to 
go,  too.     The  swain  pines  for  his  provincial  beauty." 

Poor  John  Paul !  He  had  not  yet  learned  that  good  society 
is  seldom  literal. 

"  Upon  my  soul.  Miss  Manners,  there  you  do  him  wrong," 
he  retorted,  with  ludicrous  heat ;  "  you,  above  all,  should  know 
for  whom  he  pines." 

"  He  has  misled  you  by  praising  me.  This  Richard,  despite 
his  frank  exterior,  is  most  secretive." 

"  There  you  have  hit  him,  Miss  Manners,"  he  declared ; 
"  there  you  have  hit  him  !  We  were  together  night  and  day, 
on  the  sea  and  on  the  road,  and,  while  I  poured  out  my  life 
to  him,  the  rogue  never  once  let  fall  a  hint  of  the  divine  Miss 
Dorothy.  'Tw  s  not  till  I  got  to  London  that  I  knew  of  her 
existence,  and  then  only  by  a  chance.  You  astonish  me.  You 
speak  of  a  young  lady  in  Maryland  ?  " 

Dorothy  swept  aside  my  protest. 

"  Captain,"  says  she,  gravely,  "  I  leave  you  to  judge.  What 
is  ycur  inference,  when  he  fights  a  duel  about  a  miss  with 
my  Lord  Comyn  ?  " 


A   CONSPIRACY  287 

"  A  duel ! "  cried  the  captain,  astounded. 

'^Miss  Manners  persists  in  her  view  of  the  affair,  despite 
my  word  to  tlie  contrary,"  I  put  in  rather  coldly. 

"  But  a  duel ! "  cried  the  captain  again ;  "  and  with  Lord 
Comyn !  Miss  Manners,  I  fondly  thought  I  had  discovered  a 
constant  man,  but  you  make  me  fear  he  has  had  as  many  flames 
as  I.  And  yet,  Richard,"  he  added  meaningly,  "I  should 
think  shame  on  my  conduct  and  I  had  had  such  a  subject  for 
constancy  as  you." 

Dorothy's  armour  was  pierced,  and  my  ill-humour  broken 
down,  by  this  characteristic  speech.  We  both  laughed,  greatly 
to  his  discomfiture. 

"  You  had  best  go  home  with  him,  Richard,"  said  Dolly. 
"  I  can  find  my  way  back  to  Arlington  Street  alone." 

"  Nay ;  gallantry  forbids  his  going  with  me  now,"  answered 
John  Paul ;  "  and  I  have  my  sailing  orders.  But  had  I  known 
of  this,  I  should  never  have  wasted  my  breath  iu  persuading 
him  to  remain." 

"  And  did  he  stand  in  need  of  muQh  persuasion,  captain  ?  " 
asked  Dolly,  archly. 

Time  was  pressing,  and  the  owner  came  aboard,  puffing,  —  a 
round-faced,  vociferous,  jolly  merchant,  who  had  no  sooner  got 
his  breath  than  he  lost  it  again  upon  catching  sight  of  Dolly. 
While  the  captain  was  giving  the  mate  his  final  orders,  Mr. 
Orchardson,  for  such  was  his  name,  regaled  us  with  a  part  of 
his  life's  history.  He  had  been  a  master  himself,  and  mangled 
and  clipped  King  George's  English  as  only  a  true  master 
might. 

"  I  like  your  own  captain  better  than  ever,  Richard,"  whis- 
pered Dolly,  while  Mr.  Orchardson  relieved  himself  of  his  quid 
over  the  other  side  ;  "  how  commanding  he  is !  Were  I  to 
take  passage  in  the  Betsy,  I  know  I  should  be  in  love  with 
him  long  before  we  got  to  Norfolk." 

I  took  it  upon  myself  to  tell  Mr.  Orchardson,  briefly  and 
clearly  as  I  could,  the  lamentable  story  of  John  Paul's  las*: 
cruise.  For  I  feared  it  might  sooner  or  later  reach  his  ears 
from  prej'.'^iced  mouths.  And  I  ended  by  relating  how  the 
captain  had  refused  a  commission  in  the  navy  because  he  had 


288  RICHAUD   CARVEL 

promised  to  take  the  Betsy.     This  appeared  vastly  to  impress 
him,  and  he  forgot  Dorothy's  presence. 

''  Passion  o'  my  'eart,  Mr.  Carvel,"  cried  he,  excitedly, 
"  John  Paul's  too  big  a  man,  an'  too  good  a  seaman,  to  go  into 
the  navy  without  hinilooence.  If  flag  horfocers  I  wots  of  is 
booted  haside  to  rankle  like  a  lump  o'  salt  butter  in  a  gallipot, 
'ow  will  a  poor  Scotch  lieutenant  win  hadvancement  an'  he  be 
not  o'  the  King's  friends  ?  '  Wilkes  an'  Liberty,'  say  I ;  '  for- 
ever,' say  I.  An'  w'en  T  see  'im  goin'  to  the  Tower  to  be'old 
the  Champion,  '  Captain  Paul,'  says  I,  '  yere  a  man  arf ter  my 
hown  'eart.'  My  heye,  sir,  didn't  I  see  'im,  w'n  a  mere  lad, 
take  the  John  into  Kingston  'arbour  in  the  face  o'  the  worst 
gale  I  h«ver  seed  blowed  in  the  Caribbees  ?  An'  I  says,  '  Bill 
Horchardson,  an'  ye  hever  'ave  ships  o'  yere  ow^n,  w'ich  I  'ope 
will  be,  ye'll  know  w'ere  to  look  for  a  marster.'  An'  I  tells 
*im  that  same,  Mr.  Carvel.  I  means  no  disrespect  to  the  dead, 
sir,  but  an'  John  Paul  'ad  discharged  the  Betsy,  I'd  not  'a'  been 
out  twenty  barrels  or  more  this  day  by  Thames  mudlarks  an' 
scuffle  hunters.  'Eave  me  flat,  if  'e'll  be  two  blocks  wi'  liquor 
an'  dischargin'  cargo.  An'  ye  may  rest  heasy,  Mr.  Carvel,  I'll 
not  do  wrong  by  'im,  neither." 

He  told  me  that  if  I  would  honour  him  in  Maid  Lane,  South 
wark,  I  should  have  as  many  pounds  as  I  liked  of  the  best 
tobacco  ever  cured  in  Cuba.  And  so  he  left  me  to  see  that  the 
mate  had  signed  all  his  lighter  bills,  shouting  to  the  captain 
not  to  forget  his  cockets  at  Gravesend.  Dolly  and  I  stood 
silent  while  the  men  hove  short,  singing  a  jolly  song  to  the 
step.  With  a  friendly  wave  the  round  figure  of  Mr.  Orchard- 
son  disappeared  over  the  side,  and  I  knew  that  the  time  had 
come  to  say  farewell.  I  fumbled  in  my  waistcoat  for  the  re- 
peater I  had  bought  that  morning  over  against  Temple  Bar, 
in  Fleet  Street,  and  I  thrust  it  into  John  Paul's  hand  as  he 
came  up. 

*•  Take  this  in  remembrance  of  what  you  have  suffered  so 
unselfishly  for  my  sake.  Captain  Paul,"  I  said,  my  voice  break- 
ing. "  And  whatever  befalls  you,  do  not  forget  that  Carvel 
Hal)  is  your  home  as  well  as  mine." 

He  seemed  as  greatly  affected  as  was  I.     Tears  forced  them- 


A  CONSPIRACY  289 

selves  to  his  eyes  as  he  held  the  watch,  which  he  opened 
absently  to  read  the  simple  inscription  I  had  put  there. 

"Oh,  Dickie  lad!"  he  cried,  "I'll  be  missing  ye  sair  three 
hours  hence,  and  thinking  of  ye  for  months  to  come  in  the 
night  watches.     But  something  tells  me  I'll  see  ye  again." 

And  he  took  me  in  his  arms,  embracing  me  with  such  fervour 
that  there  was  no  doubting  the  sincerity  of  his  feelings. 

"  Miss  Dorothy,"  said  he,  when  he  was  calmer,  *'  I  give  ye 
Richard  for  a  leal  and  a  true  heart.  Few  men  are  born  with 
the  gift  of  keeping  the  affections  warm  despite  absence,  and 
years,  and  interest.     But  have  no  fear  of  Richard  Carvel." 

Dorothy  stood  a  little  apart,  watching  us,  her  eyes  that  far- 
away blue  of  the  deepening  skies  at  twilight. 

"  Indeed,  I  have  no  fear  of  him,  captain,"  she  said  gently. 
Then,  with  a  quick  movement,  impulsive  and  womanl}^,  she 
unpinned  a  little  gold  brooch  at  her  throat,  and  gave  it  to 
him,  saying :  "In  token  of  my  gratitude  for  bringing  him  back 
to  us." 

John  Paul  raised  it  to  his  lips. 

"  I  shall  treasure  it,  Miss  Manners,  as  a  memento  of  the 
greatest  joy  of  ray  life.  And  that  has  been,"  gracefully  taking 
her  hand  and  mine,  "  the  bringing  you  two  together  again." 

Dorothy  grew  scarlet  as  she  curtseyed.  As  for  me,  I  could 
speak  never  a  word.  He  stepped  over  the  side  to  hand  her 
into  the  wherry,  and  embraced  me  once  again.  •  And  as  we 
rowed  away  he  waved  his  hat  in  a  last  good-by  from  the  taff- 
rail.     Then  the  Betsy  floated  down  the  Thames. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

"upstairs  into  the  world" 

It  will  be  difficult,  my  dears,  without  bulging  this  historj 
out  of  all  proportion,  to  give  you  a  just  notion  of  the  society 
into  which  I  fell  after  John  Paul  left  London.  It  was,  above 
all,  a  gaming  society.  Prom  that  prying  and  all-powerful  God 
of  Chance  none,  great  or  small,  escaped.  Guineas  were  staked 
and  won  upon  frugal  King  George  and  his  beef  and  barley-water ; 
Charles  Fox  and  his  debts ;  the  intrigues  of  Choiseul  and  the 
Du  Barry  and  the  sensational  marriage  of  the  Due  d'Orleans 
with  Madame  de  Montesson  (for  your  macaroni  knew  his  Paris 
as  well  as  his  London) ;  Lord  March  and  his  opera  singer ; 
and  even  the  doings  of  Betty,  the  apple-woman  of  St.  James's 
Street,  and  the  beautiful  barmaid  of  Nando's  in  whom  my 
Lord  Thurlow  was  said  to  be  interested.  All  these,  and  much 
more  not  to  be  repeated,  were  duly  set  down  in  the  betting- 
books  at  White's  and  Brooks's. 

Then  the  luxury  of  the  life  was  something  to  startle  a  pro- 
vincial, even  tho'  he  came,  as  did  I,  from  one  of  the  two  most 
luxurious  colonies  of  the  thirteen.  Annapolis  might  be  said  to 
be  London  on  a  small  scale,  —  but  on  a  very  small  scale.  The 
historian  of  the  future  need  look  no  farther  than  our  houses  (if 
any  remain),  to  be  satisfied  that  Ave  had  more  than  the  neces- 
sities of  existence.  The  Maryland  aristocrat  with  his  town 
place  and  his  country  place  was  indeed  a  parallel  of  the  patri- 
cian at  home.  He  wore  his  English  clothes,  drove  and  rode 
his  English  horses,  and  his  coaches  were  built  in  Long  Acre. 
His  heavy  silver  service  came  from  Elect  Street,  and  his  claret 
and  Champagne  and  Lisbon  and  Madeira  were  the  best  that 
could  be  bought  or  smuggled.     His  sons  were  often  educated 

290 


"UPSTAIES   INTO   THE  WORLD"  291 

at  home,  at  Eton  or  Westminster  and  Oxford  or  Cambridge. 
So  would  I  have  been  if  circumstances  had  permitted.  So  was 
James  Eotheringay,  the  eldest  of  the  family,  and  later  the 
Dulany  boys,  and  half  a  dozen  others  I  might  mention.  And 
then  our  ladies !  'Tis  but  necessary  to  cite  my  Aunt  Caroline 
as  an  extreme  dame  of  fashion,  who  had  her  French  hair- 
dresser, Pitou. 

As  was  my  aunt  to  the  Duchess  of  Kingston,  so  was  Annap- 
olis to  London.  To  depict  the  life  of  Mayfair  and  of  St. 
James's  Street  during  a  season  about  the  year  of  grace  1770 
demands  a  mightier  pen  than  wields  the  writer  of  these  simple 
memoirs. 

And  who  was  responsible  for  all  this  luxury  and  laxity  ? 
Who  but  the  great  Mr.  Pitt,  then  the  Earl  of  Chatham,  whose 
wise  policy  had  made  Britain  the  ruler  of  the  world,  and  rich 
beyond  compare.  Erom  all  corners  of  the  earth  her  wealth 
poured  in  upon  her.  Nabob  and  Caribbee  came  from  East  and 
West  to  spend  their  money  in  the  capital.  And  fortunes  near 
as  great  were  acquired  by  the  City  merchants  themselves. 
One  by  one  these  were  admitted  within  that  charmed  circle, 
whose  motto  for  ages  had  been  "  No  Trade,"  to  leaven  it  with 
their  gold.  And  to  keep  the  pace,  —  nay,  to  set  it,  the  nobility 
and  landed  gentry  were  sore  pressed.  As  far  back  as  good 
Queen  Anne,  and  farther,  their  ancestors  had  gamed  and  tip- 
pled away  the  acres;  and  now  that  John  and  William,  Avhose 
forebears  had  been  good  tenants  for  centuries,  were  setting  their 
faces  to  Liverpool  and  Birmingham  and  Leeds,  their  cottages 
were  empty.  So  Lord  and  Squire  went  to  London  to  re- 
cuperate, and  to  get  their  share  of  the  game  running.  St. 
James's  Street  and  St.  Stephen's  became  their  preserves. 
My  Lord  wormed  himself  into  a  berth  in  the  Treasury,  robbed 
the  country  systematically  for  a  dozen  of  years,  and  sold  the 
places  and  reversions  under  him  to  the  highest  bidder.  Bor- 
oughs were  to  be  had  somewhat  dearer  than  a  pair  of  colours. 
And  my  Lord  spent  his  spare  time  —  he  had  plenty  of  it  — 
in  fleecing  the  pigeons  at  White's  and  \lmack's.  Here  there 
was  no  honour,  even  amongst  thieves.  And  young  gentlemen 
were  hurried  through  Eton  and  Oxford,  where  they  learned 


292  RICHARD   CARVEL 

to  drink  and  swear  and  to  call  a  main  as  well  as  to  play  tennis 
and  billiards  and  to  write  Latin,  and  were  thrust  into  Brooks's 
before  they  knew  the  difference  in  value  between  a  farthing 
and  a  banknote :  at  nineteen  they  were  hardened  rakes,  or 
accomplished  men  of  the  world,  or  both.  Dissipated  noble- 
men of  middle  age  like  March  and  Sandwich,  wits  and  beaus 
and  fine  gentlemen  like  Selwyn  and  Chesterfield  and  Walpole, 
were  familiarly  called  by  their  first  names  by  youngsters  like 
Fox  and  Carlisle  and  Comyn.  Difference  of  age  was  no  dif- 
ference. Young  Lord  Carlisle  was  the  intimate  of  Mr.  Selwyn, 
born  thirty  years  before  him. 

And  whilst  I  am  speaking  of  intimacies,  that  short  one 
which  sprang  up  between  me  and  the  renowned  Charles  Fox 
has  always  seemed  the  most  unaccountable :  not  on  my  part, 
for  I  fell  a  victim  to  him  at  once.  Pen  and  paper,  brush  and 
canvas,  are  wholly  inadequate  to  describe  the  charm  of  the 
man.  When  he  desired  to  please,  his  conversation  and  the 
expression  of  his  face  must  have  moved  a  temperament  of 
stone  itself.  None  ever  had  more  devoted  friends  or  more 
ardent  admirers.  They  saw  his  faults,  which  he  laid  bare 
before  them,  but  they  settled  his  debts  again  and  again,  vast 
sums  which  he  lost  at  Newmarket  and  at  Brooks's.  And  not 
many  years  after  the  time  of  which  I  ciow  write  Lord  Carlisle 
was  paying  fifteen  hundred  a  yeai  on  the  sum  he  had  loaned 
him,  cheerfully  denying  himself  the  pleasures  of  London  as  a 
consequence. 

It  was  Mr.  Fox  who  discovered  for  me  my  lodgings  in  Dover 
Street,  vowing  that  I  could  not  be  so  out  of  fashion  as  to  live 
at  an  inn.  The  brief  history  of  these  rooms,  as  given  by  him, 
was  this :  "  A  young  cub  had  owned  them,  whose  mamma  had 
come  up  from  Berkshire  on  Thursday,  beat  him  soundly  on 
Friday,  paid  his  debts  on  Saturday,  and  had  taken  him  back 
on  Sunday  to  hunt  with  Sir  Henry  the  rest  of  his  life." 
Dorothy  came  one  day  with  her  mother  and  swept  through 
my  apartments,  commanded  all  the  furniture  to  be  moved 
about,  ordered  me  to  get  pictures  for  the  walls,  and  by  one 
fell  decree  abolished  all  the  ornaments  before  the  landlady, 
used  as  she  was  to  the  ways  of  quality,  had  time  to  gasp. 


"UPSTAIRS   INTO   THE   WORLD"  295 

"Why,  Richard,"  says  my  lady,  "you  will  be  wanting  no 
end  of  pretty  things  to  take  back  to  Maryland  when  you  go. 
You  shall  come  with  me  to-morrow  to  Mr.  Josiah  Wedgwood's, 
to  choose  some  of  them." 

"  Dorothy  !"  says  her  mother,  reprovingly. 

"  And  he  must  have  the  Chippendale  table  I  saw  yesterday 
at  the  exhibition,  and  chairs  to  match.  And  every  bachelor 
should  have  a  punch  bowl  — Josiah  has  such  a  beauty  !" 

But  I  am  running  far  ahead.  Among  the  notes  with  which 
my  table  was  laden.  Banks  had  found  a  scrawl.  This  I  made 
out  with  difficulty  to  convey  that  Mr.  Fox  was  not  attending  Par- 
liament that  day.  If  Mr.  Carvel  would  do  him  the  honour  of 
calling  at  his  lodging,  over  Mackie's  Italian  Warehouse  in 
Piccadilly,  at  four  o'clock,  he  would  take  great  pleasure  in 
introducing  him  at  Brooks's  Club.  In  those  days  'twas  far 
better  for  a  young  gentleman  of  any  pretensions  to  remain  at 
home  than  go  to  London  and  be  denied  that  inner  sanctuary, 
—  the  younger  club  at  Almack's.  Many  the  rich  brewer's  son 
has  embittered  his  life  because  it  was  not  given  him  to  see 
more  than  the  front  of  the  house  from  the  far  side  of  Pall 
Mall.  But  to  be  taken  there  by  Charles  Fox  was  an  honour 
lalling  to  few.  I  made  sure  that  Dolly  was  at  the  bottom 
of  it. 

Promptly  at  four  I  climbed  the  stairs  and  knocked  at  Mr. 
Fox's  door.  The  Swiss  who  opened  it  shook  his  head  dubiously 
when  I  asked  for  his  master,  and  said  he  had  not  been  at  home 
that  day. 

"  But  I  had  an  appointment  to  meet  him,"  I  said,  thinking 
it  very  strange. 

The  man's  expression  changed. 

"  An  appointment,  sir !  Ah,  sir,  then  you  are  to  step  in 
here."  And  to  my  vast  astonishment  he  admitted  me  into  a 
small  room  at  one  side  of  the  entrance.  It  was  bare  as  pov- 
erty, and  furnished  Avith  benches,  and  nothing  more.  On  one 
of  these  was  seated  a  person  with  an  unmistakable  nose  and 
an  odour  of  St.  Giles's,  who  sprang  to  his  feet  and  then  sat 
down  again  dejectedly.  I  also  sat  down,  wondering  what  it 
oould  mean,  and  debating  whether  to  go  or  stay. 


294  RICHARD  CARVEL 

"  Exguse  me,  your  honour,"  said  the  person,  "  but  haf  you 
seen  Mister  Fox  ?  " 

1  said  that  I,  too,  was  waiting  for  him,  whereat  he  cast  at 
me  a  cunning  look  beyond  my  compreliension.  Surely,  I 
thought,  a  man  of  Fox's  inherited  wealth  and  position  could 
not  be  living  in  such  a  place !  Before  the  truth  and  humour 
of  the  situation  had  dawned  upon  me,  I  heard  a  ringing  voice 
without,  swearing  in  most  forcible  English,  and  the  door  was 
thrown  open,  admitting  a  tall  young  gentleman,  as  striking  as 
I  have  ever  seen.  He  paid  not  the  smallest  attention  to  the 
Jew,  who  was  bowing  and  muttering  behind  me. 

"  Mr.  Richard  Carvel  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

I  bowed. 

"  Gad's  life,  Mr.  Carvel,  I'm  deuced  sorry  this  should  have 
happened.     Will  you  come  with  me  ?  " 

"  Exguse  me,  your  honour ! "  cried  the  other  visitor. 

"  Now,  what  the  plague,  Aaron !  "  says  he ;  "  you  wear  out 
the  stairs.     Come  to-morrow,  or  the  day  after." 

"  Ay,  'tis  always  '  to-morrow '  with  you  fine  gentlemen.  But 
I  vill  bring  the  bailiffs,  so  help  me  —  " 

"Damn  'em ! "  says  the  tall  young  gentleman,  as  he  slammed 
the  door  and  so  shut  ofE  the  wail.  "Damn  'em,  they  worry 
Charles  to  death.  If  he  would  only  stick  to  quinze  and  picquet, 
and  keep  clear  of  the  hounds,^  he  need  never  go  near  a  broker. 
Do  you  have  Jews  in  America,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  "  Without  wait- 
ing for  an  answer,  he  led  me  through  a  parlour,  hung  with  pic- 
tures, and  bewilderingly  furnished  with  French  and  Italian 
things,  and  Japan  and  China  ware  and  bronzes,  and  cups  and 
trophies.  "My  name  is  Fitzpatrick,  Mr.  Carvel,  —  yours  to 
command,  and  Charles's.  I  am  his  ally  for  offence  and  de- 
fence.    We  went  to  school  together,"  he  explained  simply. 

His  manner  was  so  free,  and  yet  so  dignified,  as  to  charm 
me  completely.  For  I  heartily  despised  all  that  fustian 
trumpery  of  the  age.  Then  came  a  voice  from  beyond,  call- 
ing:— 

1  The  *'  hounds,"  it  appears,  were  the  gentlemen  of  sharp  practices  at 
White's  and  Almack's.— D.  C.  C. 


"UPSTAIRS   INTO   THE  WORLD"  295 

"  That  you,  Carvel  ?  Damn  that  fellow  Eiffel,  and  did  he 
thrust  you  into  the  Jerusalem  Chamber  ?  " 

"  The  Jerusalem  Chamber !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Where  I  keep  my  Israelites,"  said  he ;  "  but,  by  Gad's  life ! 
I  think  they  are  one  and  all  descended  from  Job,  and  not 
father  Abraham  at  all.  He  must  have  thought  me  cursed 
ascetic,  eh,  Fitz  ?  Did  you  find  the  benches  hard  ?  I  nad  'em 
made  hard  as  the  devil.  But  if  they  were  of  stone,  I  vow  the 
flock  could  find  their  own  straw  to  sit  on." 

"  Curse  it,  Charles,"  cut  in  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  in  some  temper, 
"  can't  you  be  serious  for  once !  He  would  behave  this  way, 
Mr.  Carvel,  if  he  were  being  shriven  by  the  Newgate  ordinary 
before  a  last  carting  to  Tyburn,  Charles,  Charles,  it  was  Aaron 
again,  and  the  dog  is  like  to  snap  at  last.  He  is  talking  of 
bailiffs.  Take  my  advice  and  settle  with  him.  Hold  Caven- 
dish off  another  fortnight  and  settle  with  him." 

Mr.  Fox's  reply  was  partly  a  laugh,  and  the  rest  of  it  is  not 
to  be  printed.  F?  did  not  seer  in  the  least  to  mind  this  whole- 
sale disclosure  of  his  somewhat  aAvkward  affairs.  And  he  con- 
tinued to  dress,  or  to  be  dressed,  alternately  swearing  at  his 
valet  and  talking  to  Fitzpatrick  and  tc  me. 

"  You  are  both  of  a  name,"  said  he.  "  Let  a  man  but  be 
called  Richard,  and  I  seem  to  take  to  him.  I'  faith,  I  like  the 
hunchback  king,  and  believe  our  friend  Horry  Walpole  is  right 
in  defending  him,  despite  Davie  Hume.  I  vow  I  shall  like 
you,  Mr.  Carvel." 

I  replied  that  I  certainly  hoped  so. 

"  Egad,  you  come  well  enough  recommended,"  he  said,  pull- 
ing on  his  breeches.  "  No,  Eiffel,  cursed  if  I  go  en  petit  maitre 
to-day.  How  does  that  strike  you  for  a  demi  saison,  INIr.  Buck- 
skin ?  I  wore  three  of  'em  through  the  customs  last  year,  and 
March's  worked  olive  nightgown  tucked  under  my  greatcoat, 
and  near  a  dozen  pairs  of  shirts  and  stockings.  And  each  of 
my  servants  had  on  near  as  much.  0  Lud,  we  were  amazing  — 
like  beef-eaters  or  blower  pigeons.  Sorry  you  won't  meet  my 
brother,  —  he  that  will  have  the  title.     He's  out  of  town." 

Going  on  in  this  discursory  haphazard  way  while  he  dressed, 
lie  made  me  feel  much  at  home.     For  the  young  dictator  —  so 


296  RICHARD  CARVEL 

Mr.  Fitzpatrick  informed  me  afterward  —  either  took  to  you 
or  else  he  did  not,  and  stood  upon  no  ceremony.  After  lie  had 
chosen  a  coat  with  a  small  pattern  and  his  feet  had  been  thrust 
into  the  little  red  shoes  with  the  high  heels,  imported  by  him 
from  France,  he  sent  for  a  hackney-chaise.  And  the  three  of 
us  drove  together  to  Pall  Mall.  Mr.  Brooks  was  at  the  door, 
and  bowed  from  his  hips  as  we  entered. 

"  A  dozen  vin  de  Graves,  Brooks  ! "  cries  Mr.  Fox,  and  ushers 
me  into  a  dining  room,  with  high  curtained  windows  and 
painted  ceiling,  and  chandeliers  throwing  a  glitter  of  light. 
There,  at  a  long  table,  surrounded  by  powdered  lackeys,  sat  a 
bevy  of  wits,  mostly  in  blue  and  silver,  with  point  ruffles,  to 
match  Mr.  Fox's  costume.  They  greeted  my  companions 
uproariously.  It  was  "Here's  Charles  at  last!"  "Howdy, 
Charles!"  "Hello,  Richard!"  and  "What  have  you  there? 
a  new  Caribbee?"  They  made  way  for  Mr.  Fox  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  and  he  took  the  seat  as  though  it  were  his 
right. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Richard  Carvel,  gentlemen,  of  Carvel  Hall,  in 
Maryland." 

They  stirred  with  interest  when  my  name  was  called,  and 
most  of  them  turned  in  their  chairs  to  look  at  me.  I  knew 
well  the  reason,  and  felt  my  face  grow  hot.  Although  you 
may  read  much  of  the  courtesy  of  that  age,  there  was  a  deal 
of  brutal  frankness  among  young  men  of  fashion. 

"  Egad,  Charles,  is  this  he  the  Beauty  rescued  from  Castle 
Yard  ?  " 

A  familiar  voice  relieved  my  embarrassment. 

"  Give  the  devil  his  due,  Bully.  You  forget  that  I  had  a 
hand  in  that." 

"Faith,  Jack  Comyn,"  retorted  the  gentleman  addressed, 
"  you're  already  famous  for  clinging  to  her  skirt." 

"  But  cling  to  mine.  Bully,  and  we'll  all  enter  the  temple 
together.  But  I  bid  you  welcome,  Richard,"  said  his  Lord- 
ship; "you  come  with  two  of  the  most  delightful  vagabonds 
in  the  world." 

Mr.  Fox  introduced  me  in  succession  to  Colonel  St.  John, 
known  in  St.  James's  Street  as  the  Baptist ;  to  my  Lord  Bol- 


"UPSTAIRS   INTO   THE  WORLD"  297 

jigbroke,  Colonel  St.  John's  brother,  who  was  more  famil. 
iarly  called  Bally  ;  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick's  bi'other,  the  Earl  of 
Upper  Ossory,  who  had  come  up  to  London,  so  he  said,  to  see 
a  little  Italian  dance  at  the  Garden;  to  Gilly  VsiWrnia^;  to 
Sir  Charles  Bunbury,  who  had  married  Lady  Sarah  Lennox, 
Fox's  aunt,  the  beauty  who  had  come  so  near  to  being  queen 
of  all  England  ;  to  Mr.  Storer,  who  was  at  once  a  Caribbee 
and  a  Criehton ;  to  Mr.  Uvedale  Price.  These  I  remember, 
but  there  are  more  that  escape  me.  Most  good-naturedly  they 
drank  my  health  in  Charles's  vin  de  grave,  at  four  shillings 
the  bottle  ;  and  soon  I  was  astonished  to  find  myself  launched 
upon  the  story  of  my  adventures,  which  they  had  besought 
me  to  tell  them.  When  I  had  '^one,  they  pledged  me  again, 
and,  beginning  to  feel  at  home,  I  pledged  them  handsomely 
in  return.  Then  the  conversation  began.  The  like  of  it  I 
have  never  heard  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  There  was  a 
deal  that  might  not  be  written  here,  and  a  deal  more  that 
jnight,  to  make  these  pages  sparkle.  They  went  through  the 
2ieetings,  of  course,  and  thrashed  over  the  list  of  horses  en- 
tered at  Ipswich,  and  York,  and  Newmarket,  and  how  many 
were  thought  to  be  pulled.  Then  followed  the  recent  gains 
and  losses  of  each  and  every  individual  of  the  company. 
After  that  there  was  a  roar  of  merriment  over  Mr.  Storer 
cracking  mottoes  with  a  certain  Lady  Jane ;  and  how  young 
Lord  Stavordale,  on  a  wager,  tilted  the  candles  and  set  fire 
to  the  drawing-room  at  Lady  Julia's  drum,  the  day  before. 
Mr.  Price  told  of  the  rage  Topham  Beauclerk  had  got  Dr. 
Johnson  into,  by  setting  down  a  mark  for  each  oyster  the 
sage  had  eaten,  and  showing  him  the  count.  But  Mr.  Fox, 
who  was  the  soul  of  the  club,  had  the  best  array  of  any. 
He  related  how  he  had  gone  post  from  Paris  to  Lyons,  to 
order,  among  other  things,  an  embroidered  canary  waistcoat 
for  George  Selwyn  from  Jabot.  ^^  ^  Et  quel  dessin,  monsiexirV 
'Beetles  and  frogs,  in  green.'  ' Escarbots  !  grenouilles  !'  he 
cries,  with  a  shriek ;  '  Et  pour  Monsieur  Selwyn  !  Monsieur 
Fox  badine  ! '  It  came  yesterday,  by  Crawford,  and  I  sent 
it  to  Chesterfield  Street  in  time  for  George  to  wear  to  the 
Duchess's.     He   has   been  twice  to  Piccadilly  after   me,  and 


298  EICHARD   CARVEL 

twice  here,  and  swears  he  will  have  my  heart.     And  I  believe 
he  is  now  gone  to  Matson  in  a  funk." 

After  that  they  fell  upon  politics.  I  knew  that  Mr.  Fox 
was  already  near  the  head  of  the  King's  party,  and  that  he 
had  just  received  a  substantial  reward  at  his  Majesty's  hands  ; 
and  I  went  not  far  to  guess  that  every  one  of  these  easy-going, 
devil-may-care  macaronies  was  a  follower  or  sympathizer  with 
Lord  North's  policy.  But  what  I  heard  was  a  revelation  in- 
deed. I  have  dignified  it  by  calling  it  politics.  All  was 
frankness  here  amongst  friends.  There  was  no  attempt  made 
to  gloss  over  ugly  transactions  with  a  veneer  of  morality. 
For  this  much  I  honoured  them.  But  irresistibly  there  came 
into  my  mind  the  grand  and  simple  characters  of  our  own 
public  men  in  America,  and  it  made  me  shudder  to  think  that, 
while  they  strove  honestly  for  our  rights,  this  was  the  type 
which  opposed  them.  Motives  of  personal  spite  and  of  per- 
sonal gain  were  laid  bare,  and  even  the  barter  and  sale  of 
offices  of  trust  took  place  before  my  very  eyes.  I  was  silent, 
though  my  tongue  burned  me,  until  one  of  the  gentlemen, 
thinking  me  neglected,  said :  — 

"  AVhat  a-deuce  is  to  be  done  with  those  unruly  countrymen 
of  yours,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  Are  they  likely  to  be  pacified  now  that 
we  have  taken  off  all  except  the  tea  ?  You  who  are  of  our 
party  must  lead  a  sorry  life  among  them.  Tell  me,  do  they 
really  mean  to  go  as  far  as  rebellion  ?  " 

The  blood  rushed  to  my  face. 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  tea,  sir,"  I  answered  hotly ;  "  nor 
yet  of  tuppence.  It  is  a  question  of  principle,  which  means 
more  to  Englishmen  than  life  itself.  And  we  are  English- 
men." 

I  believe  1  spoke  louder  than  I  intended,  for  a  silence 
followed  my  words.  Fox  glanced  at  Comyn,  who  of  all  of 
them  at  the  table  was  not  smiling,  and  said :  — 

"  I  thought  you  came  of  a  loyalist  family,  Mr.  Carvel." 

''King  George  has  no  more  loyal  servants  than  the  Ameri- 
cans, Mr.  Fox,  be  they  Tory  or  Whig.  And  he  has  but  to 
read  our  petitions  to  discover  it,"  I  said. 

I  spoke  calmly,  but  my  heart  was  thumping  with  excitement 


"UPSTAIES   INTO   THE   WORLD"  299 

and  resentment.  The  apprehension  of  the  untried  is  apt  to  be 
sharp  at  such  moments,  and  I  looked  for  them  to  turn  their 
backs  upon  me  for  an  impertinent  provincial.  Indeed,  I  think 
they  would  have,  all  save  Comjm,  had  it  not  been  for  Fox 
himself.  He  lighted  a  pipe,  smiled,  and  began  easily,  quite 
dispassionately,  to  address  me. 

"I  wish  you  would  favour  us  with  your  point  of  view,  Mr. 
Carvel,"  said  he ;  "  for,  upon  my  soul,  I  know  little  about  the 
subject." 

"  You  know  little  about  the  subject,  and  you  in  Parliament !  " 
I  cried. 

This  started  them  all  to  laughing.  Why,  I  did  not  then 
understand.     But  I  was  angry  enough. 

"  Come,  let's  have  it !  "  said  he. 

They  drew  their  chairs  closer,  some  wearing  that  smile  of 
superiority  which  to  us  is  the  Englishman's  most  maddening 
trait.  I  did  not  stop  to  think  twice,  or  to  remember  that  I 
was  pitted  against  the  greatest  debater  in  all  England.  I  was 
to  speak  that  of  which  I  was  full,  and  the  heart's  argument 
needs  no  logic  to  defend  it.  If  it  were  my  last  word,  I  would 
pronounce  it. 

I  began  by  telling  them  that  the  Americans  had  paid  their 
share  of  the  Erench  war,  in  blood  and  money,  twice  over. 
And  I  had  the  figures  in  my  memory.  Mr.  Fox  interrupted. 
For  ten  minutes  at  a  space  he  spoke,  and  in  all  my  life  I  have 
never  talked  to  a  man  who  had  the  English  of  King  James's  Bible, 
of  Shakespeare,  and  Milton  so  wholly  at  his  command.  And 
his  knowledge  of  history,  his  classical  citations,  confounded 
me.  I  forgot  myself  in  wondering  how  one  who  had  lived  so 
fast  had  acquired  such  learning.  Afterward,  when  I  tried  to 
recall  what  he  said,  T  laughed  at  his  surprising  ignorance  of 
the  question  at  issue,  and  wondered  where  my  wits  could  have 
gone  that  I  allowed  myself  to  be  dazzled  and  turned  aside  at 
every  corner.  As  his  speech  came  faster  he  twisted  fact  into 
fiction  and  fiction  into  fact,  until  I  must  needs  close  my  mind 
and  bolt  the  shutters  of  it,  or  he  had  betrayed  me  into  confess- 
ing the  right  of  Parliament  to  quarter  troops  among  us. 
Though  my  head  swam,  I  clung  doggedly  to  my  text      And 


300  EICHARD  CARVEL 

that  was  my  salvation.  He  grew  more  excited,  and  they  ap 
plauded  him.  In  truth,  I  myself  felt  near  to  clapping.  And 
then,  as  I  stared  him  in  the  eye,  marvelling  how  a  man  of  siich 
vast  power  and  ability  could  stand  for  such  rotten  practices, 
the  thought  came  to  me  (I  know  not  whence)  of  Saint  Paul 
the  Apostle. 

"Mr.  Fox,"  I  said,  when  he  had  paused,  "before  God,  do 
you  believe  what  you  are  saying  ?  " 

I  saw  them  smiling  at  my  earnestness  and  simplicity.  Fox 
seemed  surprised,  and  laughed  evasively,  —  not  heartily  as  was 
his  wont. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said,  glancing  around  the  circle, 
"  political  principles  are  not  to  be  swallowed  like  religion,  but 
taken  rather  like  medicine,  experimentally.  If  they  agree  with 
you,  very  good.  If  not,  drop  them  and  try  others.  We  are 
always  ready  to  listen  to  remedies,  here." 

"  Ay,  if  they  agree  with  you  ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  But  food  for 
one  is  poison  for  another.  Do  you  know  what  you  are  doing  ? 
You  are  pushing  home  injustice  and  tyranny  to  the  millions, 
for  the  benetit  of  the  thousands.  For  is  it  not  true,  gentlemen, 
that  the  great  masses  of  England  are  against  the  measures  you 
imposi.  upon  us  ?  Their  fight  is  our  fight.  They  are  no  longer 
represented  in  Parliament;  we  have  never  been.  Taxation 
without  representation  is  true  of  your  rotten  boroughs  as  well 
as  of  your  vast  colonies.  You  are  helping  the  King  to  crush 
freedom  abroad  in  order  that  he  may  the  more  easily  break  it 
at  home.     You  are  committing  a  crime. 

"  I  tell  you  we  would  give  up  all  we  own  were  the  glory  or 
honour  of  England  at  stake.  And  yet  you  call  us  rebels,  and 
accuse  us  of  meanness  and  of  parsimony.  If  you  wish  money, 
leave  the  matter  to  ou^-  colonial  assemblies,  and  see  how  readily 
you  will  get  it.  But  if  you  wish  war,  persist  in  trying  to  grind 
the  spirit  from  a  people  who  have  in  them  the  pride  of  your 
own  ancestors.  Yes,  you  are  estranging  the  colonies,  gentlemen. 
A  greater  man  than  I  has  warned  you." 

And  with  that  I  rose,  believing  that  I  had  given  them  all 
mortal  offence.  To  my  astonishment  several  got  to  their  feet 
in  front  of  me,  huzzaing,  and  Comyn  and  Lord  Ossory  grasped 


"UPSTAIRS   INTO   THE   WORLD"  301 

my  hands.  And  Charles  Fox  reached  out  over  the  corner  of 
the  table  and  pulled  me  back  into  my  chair. 

"  Bravo,  Richard  Carvel !  "  he  cried.  "  Cursed  if  I  don't 
love  a  man  who  will  put  up  a  fight  against  odds.  Who  will 
stand  bluff  to  what  he  believes,  and  won't  be  talked  out  of  his 
boots.  We  won't  quarrel  with  any  such  here,  my  buckskin,  I 
can  tell  you." 

And  that  is  the  simple  story,  my  dears,  of  the  beginning  of 
my  friendship  with  one  who  may  rightly  be  called  the  Saint 
Paul  of  English  politics.  He  had  yet  some  distance  to  go,  alas, 
ere  he  was  to  begin  tliat  sturdy  battle  for  the  right  for  which 
his  countrymen  and  ours  will  always  bless  him.  I  gave  him 
my  hand  with  a  better  will  than  I  had  ever  done  anything,  and 
we  pressed  our  fingers  numb.  And  his  was  not  the  only  hand 
I  clasped.  And  honest  Jack  Comyn  ordered  more  wine,  that 
they  might  drink  to  a  speedy  reconciliation  with  America. 

"  A  pint  bumper  to  Richard  Carvel ! "  said  Mr.  Fitzpatrick. 

I  pledged  Brooks's  Club  in  another  pint.  Upon  which  they 
swore  that  I  was  a  good  fellow,  and  that  if  all  American  Whigs 
were  like  me,  all  cause  of  quarrel  was  at  an  end.  Of  this  I  was 
not  so  sure,  nor  could  I  see  that  the  question  had  been  ^.ettled 
one  way  or  another.  And  that  night  I  had  reason  to  thank 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Allen,  for  the  first  and  last  time  in  my  life, 
that  I  could  stand  a  deal  of  liquor,  and  yet  not  roll  bottom 
upward. 

The  dinner  was  settled  on  the  Baptist,  who  paid  for  it  with- 
out a  murmur.  And  then  we  adjourned  to  the  business  of  the 
evening.  The  great  drawing-room,  lighted  by  an  hundred 
candles,  was  filled  with  gayly  dressed  macaronies,  and  the 
sound  of  their  laughter  and  voices  in  contention  mingled  with 
the  pounding  of  the  packs  on  the  mahogany  and  the  rattle  of 
the  dice  and  the  ring  of  the  gold  pieces.  The  sight  was  daz- 
zling, and  the  noise  distracting.  Fox  had  me  under  his 
especial  care,  and  I  was  presented  to  young  gentlemen  who 
bore  names  that  had  been  the  boast  of  England  through  the 
centuries.  Lands  their  forebears  had  won  by  lance  and  sword, 
they  were  squandering  away  as  fast  as  ever  they  could.  I,  too, 
was  known.     All  had  heard  the  romance  of  the  Beauty  and 


302  EICHAED   CARVEL 

Castle  Yard,  and  some  liad  listened  to  Horry  Walpole  tell  that 
foolish  story  of  Goble  at  Windsor,  on  which  he  seemed  to  set 
such  store.  They  guessed  at  my  weight.  They  betted  upon 
it.  And  they  wished  to  know  if  I  could  spin  Mr.  Brooks,  who 
was  scraping  his  way  from  table  to  table.  They  gave  me 
choice  of  whist,  or  picquet,  or  quinze,  or  hazard.  1  was  carried 
away.  Nay,  I  make  no  excuse.  Tho'  the  times  were  drinking 
and  gaming  ones,  I  had  been  brought  up  that  a  gentleman 
should  do  both  in  moderation.  AVe  mounted,  some  dozen  of  us, 
to  the  floor  above,  and  passed  along  to  a  room  of  which  Fox 
had  the  key  ;  and  he  swung  me  in  on  his  arm,  the  others  press- 
ing after.  And  the  door  was  scarce  closed  and  locked  again, 
before  they  began  stripping  off  their  clothes. 

To  my  astonishment.  Fox  handed  me  a  great  frieze  coat, 
which  he  bade  me  don,  as  the  others  were  doing.  Some  were 
turning  their  coats  inside  out ;  for  luck,  said  they ;  and  putting 
on  footman's  leather  guards  to  save  their  ruffles.  And  they 
gave  me  a  hat  with  a  high  crown,  and  a  broad  brim  to  save  my 
eyes  from  the  candle  glare.  We  were  as  grotesque  a  set  as 
ever  I  laid  my  eyes  upon.  But  I  hasten  over  the  scene,  which 
has  long  become  distasteful  to  me.  I  mention  it  only  to  show 
to  what  heights  of  folly  the  young  men  had  gone.  I  recall  a 
gasp  when  they  told  me  they  played  for  rouleaux  of  ten  pounds 
each,  but  I  took  out  my  pocket-book  as  boldly  as  tho'  I  had 
never  played  for  less,  and  laid  my  stake  upon  the  board.  Fox 
lost,  again  and  again ;  but  he  treated  his  ill-luck  with  such  a 
raillery  of  contemptuous  wit,  that  we  must  needs  laugh  with 
him.  Comyn,  too,  lost,  and  at  supper  excused  himself,  saying 
that  he  had  promised  his  mother,  the  dowager  countess,  not  to 
lose  more  than  a  quarter's  income  at  a  sitting.  Bat  I  won 
and  v/on,  until  the  fever  of  it  got  into  my  blood,  and  as  the  first 
faint  light  of  that  morning  crept  into  the  empty  streets,  we 
were  still  at  it,  Fox  vowing  that  he  never  waked  up  until  day- 
light. That  the  best  things  he  said  in  the  House  came  to  him 
it  dawn. 


CHAPTER  XXXIl 

LADY   TANKERVILLe's    DRUM-MAJOB 

The  rising  suu,  as  he  came  through  the  little  panes  of  the 
windows,  etched  a  picture  of  tiiat  room  into  my  brain.  I  can 
see  the  twisted  candles  with  their  Avax  smearing  the  sticks, 
the  chairs  awry,  the  tables  littered  with  blackened  pipes,  and 
bottles,  and  spilled  wine  and  tobacco  among  the  dice ;  and 
the  few  that  were  left  of  my  companions,  some  with  dark  lines 
under  their  eyes,  all  pale,  but  all  gay,  unconcerned,  witty,  and 
cynical ;  smoothing  their  ruffles,  and  brushing  the  ashes  and 
snuff  from  the  pattern  of  their  waistcoats.  As  we  went  down- 
stairs, singing  a  song  Mr.  Foote  had  put  upon  the  stage 
that  week,  they  were  good  enough  to  declare  that  I  should 
never  be  permitted  to  go  back  to  Maryland.  That  my  grand- 
father should  buy  me  a  certain  borough,  which  might  be  had 
for  six  thousand  pounds. 

The  drawing-room  made  a  dismal  scene,  too,  after  the  riot 
and  disorder  of  the  night.  Sleepy  servants  were  cleaning  up, 
but  Fox  vowed  that  they  should  bring  us  yet  another  bottle 
before  going  home.  So  down  we  sat  about  the  famous  old 
round  table.  Fox  fingering  the  dents  the  gold  had  made  in  the 
board,  and  philosophizing;  and  reciting  Orlando  Furioso  in 
the  Italian,  and  Herodotus  in  the  original  Greek.  Suddenly 
casting  his  eyes  about,  they  fell  upon  an  ungainly  form, 
stretched  on  a  lounge,  that  made  us  all  start. 

"  Bully ! "  he  cried ;  "  I'll  lay  you  fifty  guineas  that  Mr. 
Carvel  gets  the  Beauty,  against  Ohartersea." 

This  roused  me. 

"  Nay,  Mr.  Fox,  I  beg  of  you,"  I  protested,  with  all  the 

303  ' 


304  EICHARD   CAKVEL 

vehemence  I  could  muster.     "  Miss  Manners  must  not  be  writ 
down  in  such  a  way." 

For  answer  he  snapped  his  fingers  at  the  drowsy  Brooks, 
who  brought  the  betting  book. 

"  There  !  "  says  he  ;  ''  and  there,  and  there,"  turning  over 
the  pages ;  ''  her  name  adorns  a  dozen  leaves,  my  fine  buck- 
skin. And  it  will  be  well  to  have  some  truth  about  her. 
Enter  the  wager,  Brooks." 

"  Hold  !  "  shouts  Bolingbroke ;  "  I  haven't  accepted." 

You  may  be  sure  I  was  in  an  agony  over  this  desecration, 
which  I  Avas  so  powerless  to  prevent.  But  as  I  was  thanking 
my  stars  that  the  matter  had  blown  over  with  Bolingbroke's 
rejection,  there  occurred  a  most 'singular  thing. 

The  figure  on  the  lounge,  with  vast  difficulty,  sat  up.  To 
our  amazement  we  beheld  the  bloated  face  of  the  Duke  of 
Chartersea  staring  stupidly. 

"  Damme,  Bully,  you  refushe  bet  like  tha'  !  "  he  said.  "  I'll 
take  doshen  of  'em  —  doshen,  egad.  Gimme  the  book,  Brooksh. 
Cursh  Fox  —  lay  thousand  d — d  provinshial  never  getsh  'er 
—  I  know  —  " 

I  sat  very  still,  seized  with  a  loathing  beyond  my  power  to 
describe  to  think  that  this  was  the  man  Mr.  Manners  was 
forcing  her  to  marry.     Fox  laughed. 

"  Help  his  Grace  to  his  coach,"  he  said  to  two  of  the  footmen. 

"  Kill  fellow  firsht !  "  cried  his  Grace,  with  his  hand  on  his 
sword,  and  instantly  fell  over,  and  went  sound  asleep. 

"  His  Grace  has  sent  his  coach  home,  your  honour,"  said  one 
of  the  men,  respectfully.    "  The  duke  is  very  quarrelsome,  sir." 

"  Put  him  in  a  chair,  then,"  said  Charles. 

So  they  fearfully  lifted  his  Grace,  who  was  too  far  gone  to 
resist,  and  carried  him  to  a  chair.  And  Mr.  Fox  bribed  the 
chairmen  with  two  guineas  apiece,  which  he  borrowed  from 
me,  to  set  his  Grace  down  amongst  the  marketwomen  at 
Covent  Garden. 

The  next  morning  Banks  found  in  my  pockets  something 
over  seven  hundred  pounds  more  than  I  had  had  the  day 
before. 


LA.DY   TANKERVILLE'S   DRUM-MAJOR        305 

I  rose  late,  my  head  swimming  with  mains  and  nicks,  and 
combinations  of  all  the  numbers  under  the  dozen  ;  debated 
whether  or  no  I  would  go  to  Arlington  Street,  and  decided  that 
I  had  not  the  courage.  Corayn  settled  it  by  coming  in  his 
cabriolet,  proposed  that  we  should  get  the  air  in  the  park, 
dine  at  the  Cocoa  Tree,  and  go  afterwards  to  Lady  Tanker- 
ville's  drum-major,  where  Dolly  would  undoubtedly  be. 

"Now  you  are  here,  Richard,"  said  his  Lordship,  with  his 
accustomed  bluntness,  "  and  your  ^ea-captain  has  relieved  your 
Quixotic  conscience,  what  the  deuce  do  you  intend  to  do  ? 
Win  a  thousand  pounds  every  night  at  Brooks's,  or  improve 
your  time  and  do  your  duty,  and  get  Miss  Manners  out  of  his 
Grace's  clutches  ?  I'll  warrant  something  will  come  of  tliat 
matter  this  morning." 

"  I  hope  so,"  I  said  shortly. 

Comyn  looked  at  me  sharply. 

"  Would  you  fight  him  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  he  gave  me  the  chance." 

His  Lordship  whistled.  "Egad,  then,"  said  he,  "I  shall 
want  to  be  there  to  see.  In  spite  of  his  pudding-bag  shape  he 
handles  the  sword  as  well  as  any  man  in  England.  1  have 
crossed  with  him  at  Angelo's.  And  he  has  a  devilish  tricky 
record,  Richard." 

I  said  nothing  to  that. 

"  Hope  you  do  kill  him,"  Comyn  continued.  "  He  deserves 
it  richly.  But  that  will  be  a  cursed  unpleasant  way  of  settling 
the  business,  —  unpleasant  for  you,  unpleasant  for  her,  and 
cursed  unpleasant  for  him,  too,  I  suppose.  Can't  you  think  of 
any  other  way  of  getting  her  ?  Ask  Charles  to  give  you  a  plan 
of  campaign.     You  haven't  any  sense,  and  neither  have  I." 

"  Hang  you,  Jack,  I  have  no  hopes  of  getting  her,"  I  replied, 
for  I  was  out  of  humour  with  myself  that  day.  "In  spite  of 
what  you  say,  I  know  she  doesn't  care  a  brass  farthing  to 
marry  me.     So  let's  drop  that." 

Comyn  made  a  comic  gesture  of  deprecation.     I  went  on :  — 

"  But  I  am  going  to  stay  here  and  find  out  the  truth,  though 
it  may  be  a  foolish  undertaking.  And  if  he  is  intimidating 
Mr.  Manners  —  " 


306  RICHAED  CARVEL 

"You  may  count  on  me,  and  on  Charles,"  said  my  Lord, 
generously;  "and  there  are  some  others  I  know  of.  Gad! 
You  made  a  dozen  of  friends  and  admirers  by  what  you  said 
last  night,  Richard.  And  his  Grace  has  a  few  enemies.  You 
will  not  lack  support." 

We  dined  very  comfortably  at  the  Cocoa  Tree,  where  Comyn 
had  made  an  appointment  for  me  with  two  as  diverting  gentle- 
men as  had  ever  been  my  lot  to  meet.  My  Lord  Carlisle  was 
the  poet  and  scholar  of  the  little  clique  which  had  been  to 
Eton  with  Charles  Fox,  any  member  of  which  (so  'twas  said) 
would  have  died  for  him.  His  Lordship,  be  it  remarked  in 
passing,  was  as  lively  a  poet  and  scholar  as  can  well  be  imag- 
ined. He  had  been  recently  sobered,  so  Comyn  confided  ;  which 
I  afterwards  discovered  meant  married.  Charles  Fox's  word 
for  the  same  was  fallen.  And  I  remembered  that  Jack  had 
told  me  it  was  to  visit  Lady  Carlisle  at  Castle  Howard  that 
Dorothy  was  going  when  she  heard  of  my  disappearance. 
Comyn's  other  guest  was  Mr.  Topham  Beauclerk,  the  maca- 
roni friend  of  Dr.  Johnson.  He,  too,  had  been  recently 
married,  but  appeared  no  more  sobered  than  his  Lordship. 
Mr.  Beauclerk's  wife,  by  the  way,  was  the  beautiful  Lady 
Diana  Spencer,  who  had  been  divorced  from  Lord  Boling- 
broke,  the  Bidly  I  had  met  the  night  before.  These  gentle- 
men seemed  both  well  acquainted  with  Miss  Manners,  and 
vowed  that  none  but  American  beauties  would  ever  be  the 
fashion  in  London  more.  Then  we  all  drove  to  Lady  Tanker- 
ville's  drum-major  near  Chesterfield  House. 

"  You  will  be  wanting  a  word  with  her  when  she  comes  in," 
said  Comyn,  slyly  divining.  Poor  fellow !  I  fear  that  I 
scarcely  appreciated  his  feelings  as  to  Dorothy,  or  the  noble 
unselfishness  of  his  friendship  for  me. 

We  sat  aside  in  a  recess  of  the  lower  hall,  watching  the 
throng  as  they  passed :  haughty  dowagers,  distorted  in  lead 
and  disfigured  in  silk  and  feathers  nodding  at  the  ceiling; 
accomplished  beaus  of  threescore  or  more,  carefully  mended 
for  the  night  by  their  Frenchmen  at  home ;  young  ladies  in 
gay  brocades  with  round  skirts  and  stiff,  pear-shaped  bodices ; 
and  youngsters  just  learning  to  ogle  and  to  handle  their  snuff- 


LADY  TANKERVILLE'S   DRUM-MAJOR        307 

boxes.  One  by  one  their  names  were  sent  up  and  solemnly 
mouthed  by  the  footman  on  the  landing.  At  length,  when  we 
had  all  but  given  her  up,  Dorothy  arrived,  A  hood  of  lavender 
silk  heightened  the  oval  of  her  face,  and  out  from  under  it  crept 
rebellious  wisps  of  her  dark  hair.  But  she  was  very  pale,  and 
I  noticed  for  the  first  time  a  worn  expression  that  gave  me  a 
twinge  of  uneasiness.  'Twas  then  I  caught  sight  of  the  duke, 
a  surly  stamp  on  his  leaden  features.  And  after  him  danced 
Mr.  Manners.     Dolly  gave  a  little  cry  when  she  saw  me. 

"  Oh !  Richard,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  here.  I  was  wondering 
what  had  become  of  you.  And  Comyn,  too."  Whispering  to 
me,  "Mamma  has  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Brice;  your  grand- 
father has  been  to  walk  in  the  garden." 

"  And  Grafton  ?  " 

**  She  said  nothing  of  your  uncle,"  she  replied,  with  a  little 
shudder  at  the  name ;  "  but  wrote  that  Mr.  Carvel  was  said  to 
be  better.  So  there !  your  conscience  need  not  trouble  you  for 
remaining.  I  am  sure  he  would  wish  you  to  pay  a  visit  home. 
And  I  have  to  scold  you,  sir.  You  have  not  been  to  Arlington 
Street  for  three  whole  days." 

It  struck  me  suddenly  that  her  gayety  was  the  same  as  that 
she  had  worn  to  my  birthday  party,  scarce  a  year  agone. 

"  Dolly,  you  are  not  well !  "  I  said  anxiously. 

She  flung  her  head  saucily  for  answei*.  In  the  mea-ntime 
his  Grace,  talking  coldly  to  Comyn,  had  been  looking  unutter- 
able thunders  at  me.  I  thought  of  him  awaking  in  the  dew  at 
Covent  Garden,  and  could  scarce  keep  from  laughing  in  his 
face.     Mr.  Marmaduke  squirmed  to  the  front. 

"  Morning,  Richard,"  he  said,  with  a  marked  cordiality. 
"  Have  you  met  the  Duke  of  Chartersea  ?  No !  Your  Grace, 
this  is  Mr.  Richard  Carvel.  His  family  are  dear  friends  of 
ours  in  the  colonies." 

To  my  great  surprise,  the  duke  saluted  me  quite  civilly.  But 
I  had  the  feeling  of  facing  a  treacherous  bull  which  would  gore 
me  as  soon  as  ever  my  back  was  turned.  He  was  always  put- 
ting rae  in  mind  of  a  bull,  with  his  short  neck  and  heavy, 
hunched  shoulders,  —  and  with  the  ugly  tinge  of  red  in  the 
whites  of  his  eyes. 


308  KICHARD  CARVEL 

"  Mr.  Manners  tells  me  you  are  to  remain  awhile  in  London, 
Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said,  in  his  thick  voice. 

I  took  his  meaning  instantly,  and  replied  in  kind. 

"  Yes,  your  Grace,  I  have  some  business  to  attend  to  here." 

"  Ah,"  he  answered  ;  "  then  I  shall  see  you  again." 

"  Probably,  sir,"  said  I. 

His  Lordship  watched  this  thrust  and  parry  with  an  ill-con- 
cealed delight.  Dorothy's  face  was  impassive,  expressionless. 
As  the  duke  turned  to  mount  the  stairs,  he  stumbled  clumsily 
across  a  young  man  coming  to  pay  his  respects  to  Miss  Manners, 
and  his  Grace  went  sprawling  against  the  wall. 

"  Confound  you,  sir  !  "  he  cried. 

For  the  ducal  temper  was  no  respecter  of  presences.  Then 
a  title  was  a  title  to  those  born  lower,  and  the  young  man 
plainly  had  a  vast  honour  for  a  coronet. 

"  I  beg  your  Grace's  pardon,"  said  he. 

"  Who  the  deuce  is  he  ?  "  demanded  the  duke  petulantly  of 
Mr.  Manners,  thereby  setting  the  poor  little  man  all  a-tremble. 

"Why,  why,  — "  he  replied,  searching  for  his  spyglass. 

For  an  instant  Dolly's  eyes  shot  scorn.  Chartersea  had 
clearly  seen  and  heeded  that  signal  before. 

"  The  gentleman  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  she  said. 

Tho'  I  were  put  out  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  as  a  conse- 
quence, I  itched  to  have  it  out  with  his  Grace  then  and  there. 
I  knew  that  I  was  bound  to  come  into  collision  with  him 
sooner  or  later.  Such,  indeed,  was  my  mission  in  London. 
But  Dorothy  led  the  way  upstairs,  a  spot  of  colour  burning 
each  of  her  cheeks.  The  stream  of  guests  had  been  arrested 
until  the  hall  was  packed,  and  the  curious  were  peering  over 
the  rail  above. 

"  Lord,  wasn't  she  superb ! "  exclaimed  Comyn,  exultingly, 
as  we  followed.  In  the  drawing-room  the  buzzing  about  the 
card  tables  was  hushed  a  moment  as  she  went  in.  But  I  soon 
lost  sight  of  her,  thanks  to  Comvn.  He  drew  me  on  from 
group  to  group,  and  I  was  duly  presented  to  a  score  of  Lady 
So-and-sos  and  honourable  misses,  most  of  whom  had  titles, 
but  little  else.  Mammas  searched  their  memories,  and  sud- 
denly discovered  that  they  had  heard  their  parents  speak  of 


LADY  TANKERVILLE'S   DRUM-MAJOfl        309 

my  grandfather.  But,  as  it  was  a  fair  presumption  that  most 
colonial  gentlemen  made  a  visit  home  at  least  once  in  their 
lives,  I  did  not  allow  the  dust  to  get  into  my  eyes.  I  was  in- 
vited to  dinners,  and  fairly  showered  with  invitations  to  balls 
and  drums  and  garden  parties.  I  was  twitted  about  the 
Beauty,  most  often  with  only  a  thin  coating  of  amiability 
covering  the  spite  of  the  remark.  In  short,  if  my  head  had 
not  been  so  heavily  laden  with  other  matters,  it  might  well 
have  become  light  under  the  strain.  Had  I  been  ambitious  to 
enter  the  arena  I  should  have  had  but  little  trouble,  since 
eligibility  then  might  be  reduced  to  guineas  and  another  ele- 
ment not  moral.  I  was  the  only  heir  of  one  of  the  richest 
men  in  the  colony,  vouched  for  by  the  Manners  and  taken  up 
by  Mr.  Fox  and  my  Lord  Comyn.  Inquiries  are  not  pushed 
farther.  I  could  not  help  seeing  the  hardness  of  it  all,  or 
refrain  from  contrasting  my  situation  with  that  of  the  penni- 
less outcast  I  had  been  but  a  little  time  before.  The  gilded 
rooms,  the  hundred  yellow  candles  multiplied  by  the  mirrors, 
the  powder,  the  perfume,  the  jewels,  —  all  put  me  in  mind  of 
the  poor  devils  I  had  left  wasting  away  their  lives  in  Castle 
Yard.  They,  too,  had  had  their  times  of  prosperity,  their 
friends  who  had  faded  with  the  first  waning  of  fortune.  Some 
of  them  had  known  what  it  was  to  be  fawned  over.  And  how 
many  of  these  careless,  flitting  men  of  fashion  I  looked  upon 
could  feel  the  ground  firm  beneath  their  feet ;  or  could  say 
with  certainty  what  a  change  of  ministers,  or  one  wild  night 
at  White's  or  Almack's,  would  bring  forth  ?  Verily,  one  miist 
have  seen  the  under  side  of  life  to  know  the  upper ! 

Presently  I  was  sought  out  by  Mr.  Topham  Beauclerk,  who 
had  heard  of  the  episode  below  and  wished  to  hear  more.  He 
swore  at  the  duke. 

"He  will  be  run  through  some  day,  and  serve  him  jolly 
right,"  said  he.  ''  Bet  you  twenty  pounds  Charles  Fox  does  it ! 
His  Grace  knows  he  has  the  courage  to  fight  him." 

"  The  courage  !  "  I  repeated. 

"  Yes.  Angeio  says  the  duke  has  diabolical  skill.  And 
then  he  won't  fight  fair.  He  killed  young  Atwater  on  a  foul, 
you  know.     Slipped  on  the  wet  grass,  and  Chartersea  had  him 


310  RICHARD   CARVEL 

pinned   before  he  caught  his  guard.     But  there  is  Lady  Di 
a-calling,  a-calling." 

"Do  all  the  women  cheat  in  America  too ? "  asked  Topham, 
as  we  approached. 

I  thought  of  my  Aunt  Caroline,  and  laughed. 

"  Some,"  I  answered. 

"  They  will  game,  d — n  'em,"  said  Topham,  as  tho'  he  had 
never  gamed  in  his  life.  "And  they  will  cheat,  till  a  man  has 
to  close  his  eyes  to  keep  from  seeing  their  pretty  hands.  And 
they  will  cry,  egad,  oh  so  touchingly,  if  the  luck  goes  against 
them  in  spite  of  it  all.  Only  last  week  I  had  to  forgive  Mrs 
Farnham  an  hundred  guineas.  She  said  she'd  lost  her  pin- 
money  twice  over,  and  was  like  to  have  wept  her  eyes  out." 

Thus  primed  in  Topham's  frank  terms,  I  knew  what  to 
expect.  And  I  found  to  my  amusement  he  had  not  overrun 
the  truth.  I  lost  like  a  stoic,  saw  nothing,  and  discovered  the 
straight  road  to  popularity. 

"  The  dear  things  expect  us  to  make  it  up  at  the  clubs," 
whispered  he. 

I  discovered  how  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  his  wife,  Lady 
Diana,  and  pitied  poor  Bolingbroke  heartily  for  having  lost 
her.  She  was  then  in  her  prime,  —  a  beauty,  a  wit,  and  a 
great  lady,  with  a  dash  of  the  humanities  about  her  that 
brought  both  men  and  women  to  her  feet. 

"  You  must  come  to  see  me,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  she.  "  I  wish 
to  talk  to  you  of  Dorothy." 

"  Your  Ladyship  believes  me  versed  in  no  other  subject  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  None  other  worth  the  mention,"  she  replied  instantly ; 
"  Topham  tells  me  you  can  talk  horses,  and  that  mystery  of 
mysteries,  American  politics.  But  look  at  Miss  Manners  now. 
I'll  warrant  she  is  making  Sir  Charles  see  to  his  laurels,  and 
young  Stavordale  is  struck  dumb." 

I  looked  up  quickly  and  beheld  Dolly  surrounded  by  a  circle 
of  admirers. 

"  Mark  the  shot  strike ! "  Lady  Di  continued,  between  the 
deals;  "that  time  Chartersea  went  down.  I  fancy  he  is 
bowled  over  rather  often,"  she  said  slyly.     "  What  a  brute  it 


LADY   TANKERVILLE'S  DRUM-MAJOR        311 

is.  And  they  say  that  that  little  woman  she  has  for  a 
father  imagines  a  union  with  the  duke  will  redound  to  his 
glory." 

''They  say,"  remarked  Mrs.  Meynel,  sitting  next  me,  ''that 
the  duke  has  thumbscrews  of  some  kind  on  Mr.  Manners." 

"Miss  Manners  is  able  to  take  care  of  herself,"  said 
Topham. 

"  0)1  dit,  that  she  has  already  refused  as  many  dukes  as  did 
her  Grace  of  Argyle,"  said  Mrs.  Meynel. 

I  had  lost  track  of  the  cards,  and  knew  I  was  losing  pro- 
digiously. But  my  eyes  went  back  again  and  again  to  the 
group  by  the  doorway,  where  Dolly  was  holding  court  and  dis- 
pensing justice,  and  perchance  injustice.  The  circle  increased. 
Ribands,  generals  whose  chests  were  covered  with  medals  of 
valour,  French  noblemen,  and  foreign  ambassadors  stopped  for 
a  word  with  the  Beauty  and  passed  on  their  way,  some  smiling, 
some  reflecting,  to  make  room  for  others.  I  overheard  from 
the  neighbouring  tables  a  spiteful  protest  that  a  young  upstart 
from  the  colonies  should  turn  Lady  Tankerville's  drum  into  a 
levee.  My  ears  tingled  as  I  listened.  But  not  a  feathered 
parrot  in  the  carping  lot  of  them  could  deny  that  Miss  Man- 
ners had  beauty  and  wit  enough  to  keep  them  all  at  bay. 
Hers  was  not  an  English  beauty :  every  line  of  her  face  and 
pose  of  her  body  proclaimed  her  of  that  noble  type  of  Mary- 
land women,  distinctly  American,  over  which  many  English- 
men before  and  since  have  lost  their  heads  and  hearts. 

"Egad!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Storer,  who  was  looking  on;  "she's 
already  defeated  some  of  the  Treasury  Bench,  and  bless  me  if 
she  isn't  rating  North  himself." 

Half  the  heads  in  the  room  were  turned  toward  Miss  Man- 
ners, who  was  exchanging  jokes  with  the  Prime  Minister  of 
Great  Britain.  I  saw  a  corpulent  man,  ludicrously  like  the 
King's  pictures,  with  bulging  gray  ej^es  that  seemed  to  take 
in  nothing.  And  this  was  North,  upon  whose  conduct  with 
the  King  depended  the  fate  of  our  America.  Good-natured  he 
was,  and  his  laziness  was  painfully  apparent.  He  had  the 
reputation  of  going  to  sleep  standing,  like  a  horse. 

"  But  the  Beauty  contrives  to  keep  him  awake,"  said  Storer. 


312  EICHARD   CARVEL 

"  If  you  stay  among  us,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  Topham,  "  she  wil* 
get  you  a  commissionership  for  the  asking." 

"  Look,"  cried  Lady  Di,  "  there  conies  Mr.  Fox,  the  preco- 
cious, the  irresistible.  Were  he  in  the  Bible,  we  should  read 
of  him  passing  the  time  of  day  with  King  Solomon." 

"Or  instructing  Daniel  in  the  art  of  lion-taming,"  put  in 
Mrs.  Meynel. 

There  was  Mr.  Fox  in  truth,  and  the  Beauty's  face  lighted 
up  at  sight  of  him.  And  presently,  when  Lord  North  had 
made  his  bow  and  passed  on,  he  was  seen  to  lead  her  out  of 
the  room,  leaving  her  circle  to  go  to  pieces,  like  an  empire 
without  a  head. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

DRURY    LANE 

After  a  night  spent  in  making  resolutions,  I  set  out  foi 
Arlington  Street,  my  heart  beating  a  march,  as  it  had  when  I 
went  thither  on  my  arrival  in  London.  Such  was  my  excite- 
ment that  I  was  near  to  being  run  over  in  Piccadilly  like  many 
another  country  gentlemaii,  and  roundly  cursed  by  a  wagoner 
for  my  stupidity.  I  had  a  hollow  bigness  within  me,  half  of 
joy,  half  of  pain,  that  sent  me  onward  with  ever  increasing 
steps  and  a  whirling  storm  of  contradictions  in  my  head.  Now 
it  was  :  Dolly  loved  me  in  spite  of  all  the  great  men  in  Eng- 
land. Why,  otherwise,  had  she  come  to  the  sponging-house  ? 
Berating  myself :  had  her  affection  been  other  than  that  of  a 
life-long  friendship  she  would  not  have  come  an  inch.  But 
why  had  she  made  me  stay  in  London  ?  Why  had  she  spoken 
so  to  Comyn?  What  interpretation  might  be  piit  upon  a  score 
of  little  acts  of  hers  that  came  a-flooding  to  mind,  each  a  sacred 
treasure  of  memory  ?  A  lover's  interpretation,  forsooth.  Eie, 
Richard  !  what  presumption  to  think  that  you,  a  raw  lad, 
should  have  a  chance  in  such  a  field !  You  have  yet,  by  dint 
of  hard  knocks  and  buffets,  to  learn  the  world. 

By  this  I  had  come  in  sight  of  her  house,  and  suddenly  I 
trembled  like  a  green  horse  before  a  cannon.  My  courage  ran 
out  so  fast  that  I  was  soon  left  without  any,  and  my  legs  had 
carried  me  as  far  as  St.  James's  Church  before  I  could  bring 
them  up.  Then  I  was  sure,  for  the  first  time,  that  she  did  not 
love  me.  In  front  of  the  church  I  halted,  reflecting  that  I  had 
not  remained  in  England  with  any  hope  of  it,  but  rather  to 
discover  the  truth  about  Chartersea's  actions,  and  to  save  her, 
if  it  were  possible.     I  turned  back  once  more,  and  now  got  as 

313 


314  RICHARD   CARVEL 

far  as  the  knocker,  and  lifted  it  as  a  belfry  was  striking  the 
hour  of  noon,  I  think  I  would  have  fled  again  had  not  the 
door  been  immediately  opened. 

Once  more  I  found  myself  in  the  room  looking  out  over  the 
Park,  the  French  windows  open  to  the  balcony,  the  sunlight 
flowing  in  with  the  spring-scented  air.  On  the  table  was 
lying  a  little  leather  book,  stamped  with  gold,  —  her  prayer- 
book.  Well  1  remembered  it !  I  opened  it,  to  read  :  "  Doro- 
thy, from  her  Mother.  Annapolis,  Christmas,  1768."  The 
sweet  vista  of  the  past  stretched  before  my  eyes.  I  saw  her, 
on  such  a  Mayday  as  this,  walking  to  St.  Anne's  under  the 
grand  old  trees,  their  budding  leaves  casting  a  delicate  tracery 
at  her  feet.  I  followed  her  up  the  aisle  until  she  disappeared 
in  the  high  pew,  and  then  I  sat  beside  my  grandfather  and 
thought  of  her,  nor  listened  to  a  word  of  Mr.  Allen's  sermon. 
Why  had  they  ever  taken  her  to  London  ? 

When  she  came  in  I  sought  her  face  anxiously.  She  was 
still  pale  ;  and  I  thought,  despite  her  smile,  that  a  trace  of 
sadness  lingered  in  her  eyes. 

"  At  last,  sir,  you  have  come,"  she  said  severely.  "  Sit 
down  and  give  an  account  of  yourself  at  once.  You  have  been 
behaving  very  badly." 

''  Dorothy  —  " 

"Pray  don't  'Dorothy'  me,  sir.  But  explain  where  you 
liave  been  for  this  week  past." 

"But,  Dolly  — " 

"  You  pretend  to  have  some  affection  for  your  old  playmate, 
but  you  do  not  trouble  yourself  to  come  to  see  her." 

"  Indeed,  you  do  me  wrong." 

"  Do  you  wrong  !  You  prefer  to  gallivant  about  town  with 
Comyn  and  Charles  Fox,  and  with  all  those  wild  gentlemen 
who  go  to  Brooks's.  Nay,  I  have  heard  of  your  goings-on.  I 
shall  write  to  Mr.  Carvel  to-day,  and  advise  him  to  send  for 
you.  And  tell  him  that  you  won  a  thousand  pounds  in  one 
night  —  " 

"It  was  only  seven  hundred,"  I  interrupted  sheepishly,  I 
thought  she  smiled  faintly. 

"  And  will  probably  lose  twenty  thousand  before  you  have 


DRURY  LANE  315 

done.  And  I  shall  say  to  him  that  you  have  dared  to  make 
bold  rebel  speeches  to  a  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  and  to  some  of 
the  King's  supporters.  I  shall  tell  your  grandfather  you  are 
disgracing  him." 

"Rebel  speeches!"  I  cried. 

"  Yes,  rebel  speeches  at  Almack's.  Who  ever  heard  of  such 
a  thing !  No  doubt  I  shall  hear  next  of  your  going  to  a 
drawing-room  and  instructing  his  Majesty  how  to  subdue  the 
colonies.  And  then,  sir,  you  will  be  sent  to  the  Tower,  and  I 
shan't  move  a  finger  to  get  you  out." 

"  Who  told  you  of  this,  Dolly  ?  "  I  demanded 

"  Mr.  Fox,  himself,  for  one.  He  thought  it  so  good,  —  or  so 
bad,  —  that  he  took  me  aside  last  night  at  Lady  Tankerville's, 
asked  me  why  I  had  let  you  out  of  Castle  Yard,  and  told  me  I 
must  manage  to  curb  your  tongue.  I  replied  that  I  had  about 
as  much  influence  with  you  as  I  have  with  Dr.  Franklin." 

I  laughed. 

"  I  saw  Fox  lead  you  off,"  I  said. 

''  Oh,  you  did,  did  you !  "  she  retorted.  "  But  you  never 
once  came  near  me  yourself,  save  when  I  chanced  to  meet  you 
in  the  hall,  tho'  I  was  there  a  full  three  hours." 

"  How  could  I ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  You.  were  surrounded  by 
prime  ministers  and  ambassadors,  aud  Heaven  knows  how 
many  other  great  people." 

"  When  you  wish  to  do  anything,  Richard,  you  usually  find 
a  way." 

"Nay,"  I  answered,  despairing,  "I  can  never  explain  any- 
thing to  you,  Dolly.     Your  tongue  is  too  quick  for  mine." 

"  Why  didn't  you  go  home  with  your  captain  ?  "  she  asked 
mockingly, 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  stayed  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  because  you  want  to  be  a  gay  spark  and  taste  of 
the  pleasures  of  London.  That  is,  what  you  men  are  pleased 
to  call  pleasures.     I  can  think  of  no  other  reason." 

"  There  is  another,"  I  said  desperately. 

"  Ah,"  said  Dolly.  And  in  her  old  aggravating  way  she  got 
up  and  stood  in  the  window,  looking  out  over  the  park.  I  rose 
and  stood  beside  her,  my  very  temples  throbbing. 


316  RICHAED   CARVEL 

"  We  have  no  such  springs  at  home,"  she  said.  "  But  oh,  1 
wish  I  were  at  Wilmot  House  to-day  !  " 

"  There  is  another  reason,"  I  repeated.  My  voice  sounded 
far  away,  like  that  of  anotlier.  I  saw  the  colour  come  into  her 
cheeks  again,  slowly.  The  southwest  wind,  with  a  whiff  of 
the  channel  salt  in  it,  blew  the  curtains  at  our  backs. 

"  You  have  a  conscience,  Richard,"  she  said  gently,  without 
turning.     "  So  few  of  us  have." 

I  was  surprised.  Nor  did  I  know  what  to  make  of  that : 
there  were  so  many  meanings. 

"  You  are  wild,"  she  continued,  "  and  impulsive,  as  they  say 
your  father  was.  But  he  was  a  man  I  should  have  honoured. 
He  stood  firm  beside  his  friends.  He  made  his  enemies  fear 
him.  All  strong  men  must  have  enemies,  I  suppose.  They 
must  make  them." 

I  looked  at  her,  troubled,  puzzled,  but  burning  at  her  praise 
of  Captain  Jack. 

"Dolly,"  I  cried,  "you  are  not  well.  Why  won't  you  come 
back  to  Maryland  ?  " 

She  did  not  reply  to  that.     Then  she  faced  me  suddenly. 

"  Richard,  I  know  now  why  you  insisted  upon  going  back. 
It  was  because  you  would  not  desert  your  sea-captain  Comyn 
and  Mr.  Fox  have  told  me,  and  they  admire  you  for  it  as  much 
as  I." 

What  language  is  worthy  to  describe  her  as  she  Avas  then  in 
that  pose,  with  her  head  high,  as  she  was  wont  to  ride  over  the 
field  after  the  hounds.  Hers  was  in  truth  no  beauty  of  stone, 
but  the  beauty  of  force,  —  of  life  itself. 

"  Dorothy,"  I  cried  ;  "  Dorothy,  I  stayed  because  I  love  you. 
There,  I  have  said  it  again,  what  has  not  passed  my  lips  since 
we  were  children.     What  has  been  in  my  heart  ever  since." 

I  stopped,  awed.  For  she  had  stepped  back,  out  on  the  bal- 
cony. She  hid  her  head  in  her  hands,  and  I  saw  her  breast 
shaken  as  with  sobs.  I  waited  what  seemed  a  day,  —  a  year. 
Then  she  raised  her  face  and  looked  at  me  through  the  tears 
shining  in  her  eyes. 

"  Richard,"  she  said  sadly,  "  Avhy,  why  did  you  ever  tell 
me  ?     Why  can  we  not  always  be  playmates  ?  " 


DEURY   LANE  317 

The  words  I  tried  to  say  choked  me.  I  could  not  speak  for 
sorrow,  for  very  bitterness.  And  yet  I  might  have  known  !  I 
dared  not  look  at  her  again. 

"  Dear  Kiehard,"  I  heard  her  say,  "  God  alone  understands 
how  it  hurts  me  to  give  you  pain.     Had  I  only  foreseen  —  " 

''  Had  you  only  foreseen,"  I  said  quickly. 

"  I  should  never  have  let  you  speak." 

Her  words  came  steadily,  but  painfully.  And  when  I  raised 
my  eyes  she  met  them  bravely. 

"  You  must  have  seen,"  I  cried.  <'  These  years  I  have  loved 
you,  nor  could  I  have  hidden  it  if  I  had  wished.  But  I  have 
little  to  offer  you,"  I  went  on  cruelly,  for  I  knew  not  what  I 
said;  '-you  who  may  have  English  lands  and  titles  for  the 
consenting.     I  Avas  a  fool." 

Her  tears  started  again.  And  at  sight  of  them  I  was  seized 
with  such  remorse  that  I  could  have  bitten  my  tongue  in  two. 

"  Forgive  me,  Dorothy,  if  you  can,"  I  implored.  "  I  did  not 
mean  it.  ISTor  did  I  presume  to  think  you  loved  me.  I  have 
adored,  —  I  shall  be  content  to  adore  from  far  below.  And  I 
stayed,  —  I  stayed  that  I  might  save  you  if  a  danger  threat- 
ened." 

"  Danger !  "  she  exclaimed,  catching  her  breath. 

''I  will  come  to  the  point,"  I  said.  "I  stayed  to  save  you 
from  the  Duke  of  Chartersea." 

She  grasped  the  balcony  rail,  and  I  think  would  have  fallen 
but  for  my  arm.  Then  she  straightened,  and  only  the  quiver 
of  her  lip  marked  the  effort. 

"  To  save  me  from  the  Duke  of  Chartersea  ?  "  she  said,  so 
coldly  that  my  conviction  was  shaken.  "  Expla,iu  yourself, 
sir." 

"  You  cannot  love  him  ! "  I  cried,  amazed. 

She  flashed  upon  me  a  glance  I  shall  never  forget. 

"Richard  Carvel,"  she  said,  "you  have  gone  too  far. 
Though  you  have  been  my  friend  all  my  life,  there  are  some 
things  which  even  you  cannot  say  to  me." 

And  she  left  me  abruptly  and  went  into  the  house,  her  head 
flung  back.  And  I  followed  in  a  tumult  of  mortification  and 
wounded  pride,  in  such  a  state  of  dejection  that  I  wished  I  had 


318  KICHARD   CAEVEL 

never  been  born.     But  hers  was  a  nature  of  surprises,  and  im 
pulsive,  like  my  own.     Beside  the  cabinet  she  turned,  calm 
again,  all  trace  of  anger  vanished  from  her  face.     Drawing  a 
hawthorn  sprig  from  a  porcelain  vase  I  had  given  her,  she  put 
it  in  my  hand. 

"  Let  us  forget  this,  Richard,"  said  she ;  "  we  have  both  been 
very  foolish." 

.AT,  .tfi,  .U,  ^  jb  4t 

rJP  TP  TT  TV"  ^  ^ 

Forget,  indeed !  Unless  Heaven  had  robbed  me  of  reason, 
had  torn  the  past  from  me  at  a  single  stroke.  I  could  not  have 
forgotten.  When  I  reached  my  lodgings  I  sent  the  anxious 
Banks  about  his  business  and  threw  myself  in  a  great  chair 
before  the  window,  the  chair  she  had  chosen.  Strange  to  say, 
I  had  no  sensation  save  numbness.  The  time  must  have  been 
about  two  of  the  clock :  I  took  no  account  of  it.  I  recall  Banks 
coming  timidly  back  with  the  news  that  two  gentlemen  had 
called.  I  bade  him  send  them  away.  Would  my  honour  not 
have  I'lrs.  Marble  cook  my  dinner,  and  be  dressed  for  Lady 
Pembroke's  ball  ?     I  sent  him  off  again,  harshly. 

After  a  long  while  the  slainming  of  a  coach  door  roused  me, 
and  I  was  straightway  seized  with  such  an  agony  of  mind  that 
I  could  have  cried  aloud.  'Twas  like  the  pain  of  blood  flowing 
back  into  a  frozen  limb.  Darkness  was  fast  gathering  as  I 
reached  the  street  and  began  to  walk  madly.  Word  by  word 
I  rehearsed  the  scene  in  the  drawing-room  over  the  Park,  but  I 
could  not  think  calmly,  for  the  pain  of  it.  Little  by  little  I 
probed,  writhing,  until  far  back  in  my  boyhood  I  was  tearing 
at  the  dead  roots  of  that  cherished  plant,  which  was  the  Hope 
of  Her  Love.  It  had  grown  with  my  own  life,  and  now  with 
its  death  to-day  I  felt  that  I  had  lost  all  that  was  dear  to  me. 
Then,  in  the  midst  of  this  abject  self-pity,  I  was  stricken  with 
shame.  I  thought  of  Comyn,  v/ho  had  borne  the  same  misfor- 
tune as  a  man  should.  Had  his  pain  been  the  less  because  he 
had  not  loved  her  from  childhood  ?  Like  Comyn,  I  resolved 
to  labour  for  her  happiness. 

What  hour  of  the  night  it  was  I  know  not  when  a  man 
touched  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  I  came  to  myself  with  a 
start.     I  was  in  a  narrow  street  lined  by  hideous  houses,  their 


DRUKY  LANE  319 

windows  glaring  with  light.  Each  seemed  a  skull,  with  rays 
darting  from  its  grinning  eye-holes.  Within  I  caught  glimpses 
of  debauchery  that  turned  me  sick.  Ten  paces  away  three 
women  and  a  man  were  brawling,  the  low  angry  tones  of  his 
voice  mingling  with  the  screeches  of  their  Billingsgate.  Muf- 
fled figures  were  passing  and  repassing  unconcernedly,  some 
entering  the  houses,  others  coming  out,  and  a  handsome  coach, 
without  arms  and  with  a  footman  in  plain  livery,  lumbered 
along  and  stopped  farther  on.  All  this  I  remarked  before  I 
took  notice  of  him  who  had  intercepted  me,  and  demanded 
what  he  wanted. 

"  Hey,  Bill ! "  he  cried  with  an  oath  to  a  man  who  stood  on 
the  steps  opposite ;  "  'ere's  a  soft  un  as  has  put  'is  gill  in." 

The  man  responded,  and  behind  him  came  two  more  of  the 
same  feather,  and  suddenly  I  found  myself  surrounded  by  an 
ill-smelling  crowd  of  flashy  men  and  tawdry  women.  They 
jostled  me,  and  I  reached  for  my  sword,  to  make  the  discovery 
that  I  had  forgotten  it.  Regaining  my  full  senses,  I  struck 
the  man  nearest  me  a  blow  that  sent  him  sprawling  in  the  dirt. 
A  blade  gleamed  under  the  sickly  light  of  the  fish-oil  lamp 
overhead,  but  a  man  crashed  through  from  behind  and  caught 
the  ruffian's  sword-arm  and  flung  him  back  in  the  kennel. 

''The  watch  !  "  he  cried,  "  the  watch  ! " 

They  vanished  like  rats  into  their  holes  at  the  shout,  leav- 
ing me  standing  alone  with  him.  The  affair  had  come  and 
gone  so  quickly  that  I  scarce  caught  my  breath. 

"  Pardon,  sir,"  he  said,  knuckling,  "  but  I  followed  you." 

It  was  Banks.  For  a  second  time  he  had  given  me  an  af- 
fecting example  of  his  faithfulness.  I  forgot  that  he  was  my 
servant,  and  I  caught  his  hand  and  pressed  it. 

"  You  have  saved  my  life  at  the  risk  of  your  own,"  I  said ; 
"  I  shall  not  forget  it." 

But  Banks  had  been  too  well  trained  to  lose  sight  of  his 
position.  He  merely  tipped  his  hat  again  and  said  impertur- 
bably :  — 

"Best  get  out  of  here,  your  honour.  They'll  be  coming 
again  directly." 

"  Where  are  we  ?  "  I  asked. 


320  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Drury  Lane>  sir,"  lie  replied,  giving  me  just  the  corner  of 
a  glance  ;  *'  shall  I  fetch  a  coach,  sir  ?  " 

No,  I  preferred  to  walk.  Before  we  had  turned  into  Long 
Acre  I  had  seen  all  of  this  Sodom  of  London  that  it  should  be 
given  a  man  to  see,  if  indeed  we  must  behold  some  of  the 
bestiality  of  this  world.  Here  alone,  in  the  great  city,  high 
and  low  were  met  equal.  Sin  levels  rank.  The  devil  makes 
no  choice  between  my  lord  and  his  kitchen  wench  who  has 
gone  astray.  Here,  in  Sodom,  painted  vice  had  lain  for  an 
hundred  years  and  bred  half  the  crime  of  a  century.  How 
many  souls  had  gone  hence  in  that  time  to  meet  their  Maker ! 
Some  of  these  brazen  creatures  wh  3  leered  at  me  had  known  — 
how  long  ago !  —  a  peaceful  home  and  a  mother's  love ;  had 
been  lured  in  their  innocence  to  this  place  of  horrors,  never  to 
leave  it  until  death  mercifully  overtakes  them.  Others,  having 
fallen,  iiad  been  driven  hither  by  a  cruel  world  that  shelters 
all  save  the  helpless,  that  forgives  all  save  the  truly  penitent. 
I  shuddered  as  I  thought  of  Mr.  Hogarth's  prints,  which,  in  the 
library  in  Marlboro'  Street  at  home,  had  had  so  little  meaning 
for  me.     Verily  he  had  painted  no  worse  than  the  reality. 

As  I  strode  homeward,  my  own  sorrow  subdued  by  the 
greater  sorrow  I  had  looked  upon,  the  craving  I  had  had  to  be 
alone  was  gone,  and  I  would  have  locked  arms  with  a  turnspit. 
I  called  to  Banks,  who  Avas  behind  at  a  respectful  distance, 
and  bade  him  come  talk  to  me.  His  presence  of  mind  in  call- 
ing on  the  watch  had  made  even  a  greater  impression  upon  me 
than  his  bravery,  T  told  him  that  he  should  have  ten  pounds, 
and  an  increase  of  wages.  And  I  asked  him  where  I  had  gone 
after  leaving  Dover  Street,  and  why  he  had  folloAved  me.  He 
answered  this  latter  question  first.  He  had  seen  gentlemen  in 
the  same  state,  or  something  like  it,  before :  his  Lordship,  his 
late  master,  after  he  had  fought  with  Mr.  Onslow,  of  the 
Guards,  and  Sir  Edward  Minturn,  when  he  had  lost  an  in- 
heritance and  a  reversion  at  Brooks's,  and  was  forced  to  give 
over  his  engagement  to  marry  the  Honourable  Miss  Swift. 

"Lord,  sir,"  he  said,  "but  that  was  a  sad  case,  as  set  all 
London  agog.  And  Sir  Edward  shot  hisself  at  Portsmouth 
not  a  se'nnight  after." 


DRURY  LANE  321 

And  he  relapsed  into  silence,  no  doubt  longing  to  ask  the 
cause  of  my  own  affliction.  Presently  he  surprised  me  by 
saying :  — 

"And  I  might  make  so  bold,  Mr.  Carvel,  I  -would  like  to 
tell  your  honour  something." 

1  nodded.     And  he  hawed  awhile  and  then  burst  out :  — 

"  Your  honour  must  know  then  that  I  belongs  to  the  foot- 
man's club  in  Berkeley  Square,  where  I  meets  all  the  servants 
o'  quality  —  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  wondering  what  footman's  tale  he  had  to  tell. 

"  And  Whipple,  he's  a  hintimate  o'  mine,  sir,"  He  stopped 
again. 

"  And  who  may  Whipple  be  ?  " 

''  With  submission,  sir.  Whipple's  his  Grace  o'  Chartersea's 
man  —  and,  you'll  forgive  me,  sir  —  Whipple  owns  his  Grace 
is  prodigious  ugly,  an'  killed  young  Mr.  Atwater  unfair,  some 
think.  Whipple  says  he  would  give  notice  had  he  not  promised 
the  old  duke  —  " 

"Drat  Whipple!"  I  cried. 

"  Yes,  sir.  To  be  sure,  sir.  His  Grace  was  in  a  bloody  rage 
when  he  found  hisself  in  a  fruit  bin  at  Covent  Garding.  An' 
two  redbreasts  had  carried  him  to  the  round  house,  sir,  afore 
they  discovered  his  title.  An'  since  his  Grace  ha'  said  time 
an'  time  afore  Whipple,  that  he'll  ha'  Mr.  Carvel's  heart  for 
that,  and  has  called  you  most  disgustin'  bad  names,  sir.  An' 
Whipple  he  says  to  me  :  '  Banks,  drop  your  marster  a  word,  an' 
you  get  the  chance.  His  Grace'll  speak  him  fair  to's  face,  but 
let  him  look  behind  him.' " 

"  I  thank  you  again.  Banks.  I  shall  bear  in  mind  your 
devotion,"  I  replied.  "  But  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  sending 
the  duke  to  Covent  Garden." 

"Ay,  sir,  so  I  tells  Whipple." 

"Pray,  how  did  you  know?"  I  demanded  curiously. 

"Lord,  sir!  All  the  servants  at  Almack's  is  friends  o' 
mine,"  says  he.  "But  Whipple  declares  his  Grace  will  be 
sworn  you  did  it,  sir,  tho'  the  Lord  Mayor  hisself  made  depo- 
sition 'twas  not." 

"  Then  mark  me.  Banks,  you  are  not  to  talk  of  this." 


822  RICHAED   CARVEL 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no,  your  honour,"  he  said,  as  he  fell  back.  But 
I  was  not  so  sure  of  his  discretion  as  of  his  loyalty. 

And  so  I  was  led  to  perceive  that  I  was  not  to  be  the  only 
aggressor  in  the  struggle  that  was  to  come.  That  his  Grace 
did  me  the  honour  to  look  upon  me  as  an  obstacle.  And  that 
he  intended  to  seize  the  first  opportunity  to  make  way  with 
me,  by  fair  means  or  foul. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

HIS    GRACE   MAKES    ADVANCES 

The  next  morning  I  began  casting  about  as  to  what  I  should 
do  next.  There  was  no  longer  any  chance  of  getting  at  the 
secret  from  Dorothy,  if  secret  there  were.  Whilst  I  am  rumi- 
nating comes  a  great  battling  at  the  street  door,  and  Jack 
Comyn  blew  in  like  a  gust  of  wind,  rating  me  soundly  for 
being  a  lout  and  a  blockhead. 

"  Zooks ! "  he  cried,  "  I  danced  the  soles  off  my  shoes  try- 
ing to  get  in  here  yesterday,  and  I  hear  you  were  moping  all 
the  time,  and  paid  me  no  more  attention  than  I  had  been  a 
dog  scratching  at  the  door.  What !  and  have  you  fallen  out 
with  my  lady  ?  " 

I  confessed  the  whole  matter  to  him.  He  Avas  not  to  be 
resisted.  He  called  to  Banks  for  a  cogue  of  Nantsey,  and 
swore  amazingly  at  what  he  was  pleased  to  term  the  inscruta- 
bility of  woman,  offering  up  consolation  by  the  wholesale. 
The  incident,  he  said,  but  strengthened  his  conviction  that  Mr. 
Manners  had  appealed  to  Dorothy  to  save  him.  "  And  then," 
added  his  Lordship,  facing  me  with  absolute  fierceness,  ''and 
then,  Richard,  why  the  devil  did  she  weep  ?  There  were  no 
tears  when  I  made  my  avowal.  I  tell  you,  man,  that  the 
whole  thing  points  but  the  one  way.  She  loves  you.  I  swear 
it  by  the  rood." 

I  could  not  help  laughing,  and  he  stood  looking  at  me  with 
such  a  whimsical  expression  that  I  rose  and  flung  my  arms 
around  him. 

"  Jack,  Jack  !  "  I  cried,  "  what  a  fraud  you  are  !  Do  you 
remember  the  argument  you  used  when  you  had  got  me  out  of 
the  sponging-house  ?     Quoting  you,  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  put 

323 


324  KICHARD   CARVEL 

Dorothy  to  the  proof,  and  she  would  toss  Mr.  Marmaduke  and 
his  honour  broadcast.  Now  I  have  confessed  myself,  and  what 
is  the  result  ?     Nay,  your  theory  is  gone  up  in  vapour." 

"  Then  why,"  cried  his  Lordship,  hotly,  "  why  before  refus- 
ing me  did  she  demand  to  know  whether  you  had  been  in 
love  with  Patty  Swain  ?  'Sdeath !  you  put  me  in  mind  of  a 
woman  upon  stilts  —  a  man  has  always  to  be  walking  alongside 
her  with  encouragement  handy.  And  when  a  proud  creature 
such  as  our  young  lady  breaks  down  as  she  hath  done,  'tis  clear 
as  skylight  there  is  something  wrong.  And  as  for  Mr.  Man- 
ners, Hare  overheard  a  part  of  a  pow-wow  'twixt  him  and 
the  duke  at  the  Bedford  Arms, — and  Chartersea  has  all  but 
owned  in  some  of  his  drunken  fits  that  our  little  fop  is  in  his 
power." 

"  Then  she  is  in  love  with  some  one  else,"  I  said. 

"I  tell  you  she  is  not," said  Comyn,  still  more  emphatically; 
"  and  you  can  write  that  down  in  red  in  your  table  book.  Gos- 
sip has  never  been  able  to  connect  her  name  with  that  of  any 
man  save  yours,  when  she  went  for  you  in  Castle  Yard.  And, 
gemini,  gossip  is  like  water,  and  will  get  in  if  a  crack  shows. 
When  the  Marquis  of  Wells  was  going  to  Arlington  Street  once 
every  day,  she  sent  him  about  his  business  in  a  fortnight." 

Despite  Comyn's  most  unselfish  optimism,  I  could  see  no 
light.  And  in  the  recklessness  that  so  often  besets  youngsters 
of  my  temper,  on  like  occasions,  I  went  off  to  Newmarket 
next  day  with  Mr.  Fox  and  Lord  Ossory,  in  his  Lordship's 
travelling-chaise  and  four.  I  spent  a  very  gay  week  trying 
to  forget  Miss  Dolly.  I  was  the  loser  by  some  three  hundred 
pounds,  in  addition  to  what  I  expended  and  loaned  to  Mr.  Fox. 
This  young  gentleman  was  then  beginning  to  accumulate  at 
Newmarket  a  most  execrable  stud.  He  lost  prodigiously,  but 
seemed  in  no  wise  disturbed  thereby.  I  have  never  known  a 
man  who  took  his  ill-luck  with  such  a  stoical  nonchalance. 
Not  so  while  the  heat  was  on.  As  I  write,  a  most  ridicu- 
lous recollection  rises  of  Charles  dragging  his  Lordship  and 
me  and  all  who  were  with  him  to  that  part  of  the  course 
where  the  race  was  highest,  where  he  would  act  like  a  mad- 
man ;  blowing  and  perspiring,  and  whipping  and  swearing  all 


HIS   GRACE   MAKES  ADVANCES  325 

at  a  time,  and  rising  up  and  down  as  if  the  horse  was  throwing 
him. 

At  Kewmarket  I  had  the  good  —  or  ill  —  fortune  to  meet 
that  incorrigible  rake  and  profligate,  my  Lord  of  March  and 
Ruglen.  For  him  the  goddess  of  Chance  had  smiled,  and  he 
was  in  the  most  complaisant  humour.  I  was  presented  to  his 
Grace,  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  whose  name  I  had  no  reason  to 
love,  and  invited  to  Wakefield  Lodge.  We  went  instead,  Mr. 
Fox  and  I,  to  Ampthill,  Lord  Ossory's  seat,  with  a  merry 
troop.  And  then  we  had  more  racing ;  and  whist  and  quinze 
and  pharaoh  and  hazard,  until  I  was  obliged  to  write  another 
draft  upon  Mr.  Dix  to  settle  the  vails :  and  picquet  in  the 
travelling-chaise  all  the  way  to  London.  Dining  at  Brooks's, 
we  encountered  Fitzpatrick  and  Comyn  and  my  Lord  Car- 
lisle. 

"  Now  how  much  has  Charles  borrowed  of  you,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  " 
demanded  Fitzpatrick,  as  we  took  our  seats. 

"  I'll  lay  ten  guineas  that  Charles  has  him  mortgaged  this 
day  month,  though  he  owns  as  much  land  as  William  Penn, 
and  is  as  rich  as  Fordyce." 

Comyn  demanded  where  the  devil  I  had  been,  though  he 
knew  perfectly.  He  was  uncommonly  silent  during  dinner, 
and  then  asked  me  if  I  had  heard  the  news.  I  told  him  I  had 
heard  none.  He  took  me  by  the  sleeve,  to  the  quiet  amuse- 
ment of  the  company,  and  led  me  aside. 

"  Curse  you,  Eichard,"  says  he  ;  "  you  have  put  me  in  such 
a  temper  that  I  vow  I'll  fling  you  over.  You_profess  to  love 
her,  and  yet  you  go  betting  to  Newmarket  and  carousing  to 
Ampthill  when  she  is  ill." 

"111!"  I  said,  catching  my  breath. 

"  Ay  !  That  hurts,  does  it  ?  Yes,  ill,  I  say.  She  was 
missed  at  Lady  Pembroke's  that  Friday  you  had  the  scene 
with  her,  and  at  Lady  Ailesbury's  on  Saturday.  On  Monday 
morning,  when  I  come  to  you  for  tidings,  you  are  off  watching 
Charles  make  an  ass  of  himself  at  Newmarket." 

"  And  how  is  she  now,  Comyn  ?  "  I  asked,  catching  him  by 
the  arm. 

"  You  may  go  yourself  and  see,  and  be  cursed,  Richard  Car- 


326  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Ve\.  She  IS  in  trouble,  and  you  are  pleasure-seeking  in  the 
country.     Damme  !  you  deserve  richly  to  lose  her." 

Calling  for  my  gi-eatcoat,  and  paying  no  heed  to  the  jeers 
of  the  company  for  leaving  before  the  toasts  and  the  play,  I 
fairly  ran  to  Arlington  Street.  I  was  in  a  passion  of  remorse. 
Comyn  had  been  but  just.  Granting,  indeed,  that  she  had 
refused  to  marry  me,  was  that  any  reason  why  I  should  desert 
my  life-long  friend  and  playmate  ?  A  hundred  little  tokens  of 
her  affection  for  me  rose  to  mind,  and  last  of  all  that  rescue 
from  Castle  Yard  in  the  face  of  all  Mayfair.  And  in  that  hour 
of  darkness  the  conviction  that  something  was  wrong  came 
back  upon  me  with  redoubled  force.  Her  lack  of  colour,  her 
feverish  actions,  and  the  growing  slightness  of  her  figure,  all 
gave  me  a  pang,  as  I  connected  them  with  that  scene  on  the 
balcony  over  the  Park. 

The  house  was  darkened,  and  a  coach  was  in  front  of  it. 

"  Yessir,"  said  the  footman,  "Miss  Manners  has  been  quite 
ill.  She  is  now  some  better,  and  Dr.  James  is  with  her.  Mrs. 
Manners  begs  company  will  excuse  her." 

And  Mr.  Marmaduke  ?  The  man  said,  with  as  near  a  grin 
as  he  ever  got,  that  the  marster  was  gone  to  Mrs.  Cornelys's 
assembly.  As  I  turned  away,  sick  at  heart,  the  physician,  in 
his  tie-wig  and  scarlet  cloak,  came  out,  and  I  stopped  him. 
He  was  a  testy  man,  and  struck  the  stone  an  impatient  blow 
with  his  staff. 

"  'Od's  life,  sir.  I  am  besieged  day  and  night  by  you  young 
gentlemen.  I  begin  to  think  of  sending  a  daily  card  to  Al- 
mack's." 

"  Sir,  I  am  an  old  friend  of  Miss  Manners,"  I  replied,  "  hav- 
ing grown  up  with  her  in  Maryland  —  " 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Carvel  ?  "  he  demanded  abruptly,  taking  his 
hat  from  his  arm. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  surprised.  In  the  gleam  of  the  portico 
lanthorn  he  scrutinized  me  for  several  seconds. 

"  There  are  some  troubles  of  the  mind  which  are  beyond  the 
power  of  physic  to  remedy,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  he.  "  She  has 
mentioned  your  name,  sir,  and  you  are  to  judge  of  my  mean- 
ing.    Your  most  obedient,  sir.     Good  night,  sir." 


HIS   GRACE   MAKES  ADVANCES  327 

And  he  got  into  his  coach,  leaving  me  standing  where  I  was, 
bewildered. 

That  same  fear  of  being  alone,  which  has  driven  many  a 
man  to  his  cups,  sent  me  back  to  Brooks's  for  company.  I 
found  Fox  and  Comyn  seated  at  a  table  in  the  corner  of  the 
drawing-room,  for  once  not  plajdng,  but  talking  earnestly. 
Their  expressions  when  they  saw  me  betrayed  what  my  own 
face  must  have  been. 

"AVhat  is  it?"  cried  Comyn,  half  rising;  "is  she  —  is 
she  —  " 

"  No,  she  is  better,"  I  said. 

He  looked  relieved. 

"  You  must  have  frightened  him  badly,  Jack,"  said  Eox. 

I  flung  myself  into  a  chair,  and  Fox  proposed  whist,  some- 
thing unusual  for  him.  Comyn  called  for  cards,  and  was  about 
to  go  in  search  of  a  fourth,  when  we  all  three  caught  sight 
of  the  Duke  of  Chartersea  in  the  door,  surveying  the  room 
with  a  cold  leisure.  His  eye  paused  when  in  line  with  us,  and 
we  were  seized  with  astonishment  to  behold  him  making  in 
our  direction. 

"  Squints !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Fox,  "  now  what  the  devil  can 
the  hound  want  ?  " 

"  To  pull  your  nose  for  sending  him  to  market,"  my  Lord 
suggested. 

Fox  laughed  coolly. 

"  Lay  you  twenty  he  doesn't.  Jack,"  he  said. 

His  Grace  plainly  had  some  business  with  us,  and  I  hoped 
he  was  coming  to  force  the  fighting.  The  pieces  had  ceased 
to  rattle  on  the  round  mahogany  table,  and  every  head  in  the 
room  seemed  turned  our  way,  for  the  Covent  Garden  story 
was  well  known.  Chartersea  laid  his  hand  on  the  back  of 
our  fourth  chair,  greeted  us  with  some  ceremony,  and  said 
something  which,  under  the  circumstances,  was  almost  unheard 
of  in  that  day  :  — 

"  If  you  stand  in  need  of  one,  gentlemen,  I  should  deem  it 
an  honour." 

The  situation  had  in  it  enough  spice  for  all  of  us.  We 
welcomed  him  with  alacrity.     The  cards  were  cut,  and  it  fell 


328  EICHAKU   CAEVEL 

to  his  Grace  to  deal,  which  he  did  very  prettily,  despite  his 
heavy  hands.  He  drew  Charles  Fox,  and  they  won  steadily. 
The  conversation  between  deals  was  anywhere ;  on  the  virtue 
of  Morello  cherries  for  the  gout,  to  which  his  Grace  was 
already  subject;  on  Mr.  Fox's  Ariel,  and  why  he  had  not 
carried  Sandwich's  cup  at  Newmarket ;  on  the  advisability  of 
putting  three-year-olds  on  the  track;  in  short,  on  a  dozen 
small  topics  of  the  kind.  At  length,  when  Comyn  and  I  had 
lost  some  fifty  pounds  between  us,  Chartersea  threw  down  the 
cards. 

"  My  coach  waits  to-night,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  with  some 
sort  of  an  accent  that  did  not  escape  us.  "  It  would  give  me 
the  greatest  pleasure  and  you  will  sup  with  me  in  Hanover 
Square." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

IN   WHICH   MY   LORD    BALTIMORE   APPEARS 

His  Grace's  offer  was  accepted  with  a  readiness  he  could 
scarce  have  expected,  and  we  all  left  the  room  in  the  midst 
of  a  buzz  of  comment.  We  knew  well  that  the  matter  was 
not  so  haphazard  as  it  appeared,  and  on  the  way  to  Hanover 
Square  Comyn  more  than  once  stepped  on  my  toe,  and  1 
answered  the  pressure.  Our  coats  and  canes  were  taken  by 
the  duke's  lackeys  when  we  arrived.  We  were  shown  over 
the  house.  Until  now  —  so  his  Grace  informed  us  —  it  had  not 
been  changed  since  the  time  of  the  fourth  dvike,  who,  as  we 
doubtless  knew,  had  been  an  ardent  supporter  of  the  Han- 
overian succession.  The  rooms  were  high-panelled  and  fur- 
nished in  the  German  style,  as  was  the  fashion  when  the 
Square  was  built.  But  some  were  stripped  and  littered  with 
scaffolding  and  plaster,  new  and  costly  marble  mantels  were 
replacing  the  wood,  and  an  Italian  of  some  renown  was  deco- 
rating the  ceilings.  His  Grace  appeared  to  be  at  some  pains 
that  the  significance  of  these  improvements  should  not  be  lost 
upon  us ;  was  constantly  appealing  to  Mr.  Fox's  taste  on  this 
or  that  feature.  But  those  fishy  eyes  of  his  were  so  alert  that 
we  had  not  even  opportunity  to  wink.  It  was  wholly  patent, 
in  brief,  that  the  Duke  of  Chartersea  meant  to  be  married,  and 
had  brought  Charles  and  Comyn  hither  with  a  purpose.  For 
me  he  would  have  put  himself  out  not  an  inch  had  he  not 
understood  that  my  support  came  from  those  quarters. 

He  tempered  off  this  exhibition  by  showing  us  a  collection  of 
pottery  famous  in  England,  that  had  belonged  to  the  fifth  duke, 
his  father.  Every  piece  of  it,  by  the  way,  afterwards  brought 
an  enormous  sum  at  auction.     Supper  was  served  in  a  warm 

329 


330  EICHARD   CAEVEL 

little  room  of  oak.  The  game  was  from  Derresley  Manor,  the 
duke's  Nottinghamshire  seat,  and  the  wine,  so  he  told  us,  was 
some  of  fifty  bottles  of  rare  Chinon  he  had  inherited.  Melted 
rubies  it  was  indeed,  of  the  sort  which  had  quickened  the  blood 
of  many  a  royal  gathering  at  Blois  and  Amboise  and  Chenon- 
ceaux,  —  the  distilled  peasant  song  of  the  Loire  valley.  In  it 
many  a  careworn  crown  had  tasted  the  purer  happiness  of  the 
lowly.  Our  restraint  gave  way  under  its  influence.  His  Grace 
lost  for  the  moment  his  deformities,  and  Mr.  Fox  made  us  laugh 
until  our  sides  ached  again.  His  Lordship  told  many  a  capital 
yarn,  and  my  own  wit  was  afterwards  said  to  be  astonishing, 
though  I  can  recall  none  of  it  to  support  the  affirmation. 

Not  a  word  or  even  a  hint  of  Dorothy  had  been  uttered,  nor 
did  Chartersea  so  much  as  refer  to  his  Covent  Garden  expe- 
rience. At  length,  when  some  half  dozen  of  the  wine  was 
gone,  and  the  big  oak  clock  had  struck  two,  the  talk  lapsed. 
It  was  Charles  Fox,  of  course,  who  threw  the  spark  into  the 
powder  box. 

"  We  were  speaking  of  hunting,  Chartersea,"  he  said.  "  Did 
you  ever  know  George  Wrottlesey,  of  the  Suffolk  branch  ?  " 

"No,"  said  his  Grace,  very  innocent. 

"  No !  'Od's  whips  and  spurs,  I'll  be  sworn  I  never  saAV  a 
man  to  beat  him  for  reckless  riding.  He  would  take  five  bars 
any  time,  egad,  and  sit  any  colt  that  was  ever  foaled.  The 
Wrottleseys  were  poor  as  weavers  then,  with  the  Jews  coming 
down  in  the  wagon  from  London  and  hanging  round  the  hall 
gates.  But  the  old  squire  had  plenty  of  good  hunters  in  the 
stables,  and  haunches  on  the  board,  and  a  cellar  that  was  like 
the  widow's  cruse  of  oil,  or  barrel  of  meal  —  or  whatever  she 
had.  All  the  old  man  had  to  do  to  lose  a  guinea  was  to  lay  it 
on  a  card.  He  never  nicked  in  his  life,  so  they  say.  Well, 
young  George  got  after  a  rich  tea-merchant's  daughter  who  had 
come  into  the  country  near  by.  'Slife  !  she  was  a  saucy  jade, 
and  devilish  pretty.  Such  a  face !  so  Stavordale  vowed,  and 
such  a  neck !  and  such  eyes !  so  innocent,  so  ravishingly 
innocent.  But  she  knew  cursed  well  George  was  after  the 
bank  deposit,  and  kept  him  galloping.  And  when  he  got  a 
view,  halloa,  egad !  she  was  stole  away  again,  and  no  scent. 


MY  LORD   BALTIMORE   APPEARS  331 

"  One  morning  George  was  out  after  the  hounds  with  Stavor- 
dale,  who  told  me  the  story,  and  a  lot  of  fellows  who  had  come 
over  from  Newmarket.  He  was  upon  Afterraath,  the  horse  that 
Foley  bought  for  five  hundred  pounds  and  was  a  colt  then.  Of 
course  he  left  the  field  out  of  sight  behind.  He  made  for  a  gap 
in  the  park  wall  (faith !  there  was  no  lack  of  'em),  but  the  colt 
refused,  and  over  went  George  and  plumped  into  a  cart  of  winter 
apples  some  farmer's  sot  was  taking  to  Bury  Saint  Edmunds  to 
market.  The  fall  knocked  the  sense  out  of  George,  for  he 
hasn't  much,  and  Stavordale  thinks  he  must  have  struck  a 
stake  as  he  went  in.  Anyway,  the  apples  rolled  over  on  top 
of  him,  and  the  drunkard  on  the  seat  never  woke  up,  i'  faith. 
And  so  they  came  to  town. 

"It  so  chanced,  egad,  that  the  devil  sent  Miss  Tea  Mer- 
chant to  Bury  to  buy  apples.  She  amused  herself  at  playing 
country  gentlewoman  while  papa  worked  all  week  in  the 
city.  She  saw  the  cart  in  the  market,  and  ate  three  (for  she 
had  the  health  of  a  barmaid),  and  bid  in  the  load,  and  George 
with  it.  'Pon  my  soul !  she  did.  They  found  his  boots  first. 
And  the  lady  said,  before  all  the  grinning  Johns  and  Willums, 
that  since  she  had  bought  him  she  supposed  she  would  have 
to  keep  him.  And,  by  Gad's  life !  she  has  got  him  yet,  which 
is  a  deal  stranger." 

Even  the  duke  laughed.  For,  as  Fox  told  it,  the  story  was 
irresistible.  But  it  came  as  near  to  being  a  wanton  insult  as 
a  reference  to  his  Grace's  own  episode  might.  The  red  came 
slowly  back  into  his  eye.  Fox  stared  vacantly,  as  was  his 
habit  Avhen  he  had  done  or  said  something  especially  daring. 
And  Comyn  and  I  waited,  straining  and  expectant,  like  boys 
who  have  prodded  a  wild  beast  and  stand  ready  for  the  spring. 
There  was  a  metallic  ring  in  the  duke's  voice  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  have  heard,  Mr.  Carvel,  that  you  can  ride  any  mount 
offered  you." 

"  'Od's,  and  so  he  can !  "  cried  Jack.  "  I'll  take  oath  on 
that." 

"  I  will  lay  you  an  hundred  guineas,  my  Lord,"  says  his 
Grace,  very  off-hand,  "  that  Mr.  Carvel  does  not  sit  Baltimore's 
Pollux  above  twenty  minutes," 


332  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Done !  "  says  Jack,  before  I  could  draw  breath. 

"  I'll  take  your  Grace  for  another  hundred,"  added  Mr.  Fox, 
calmly. 

"It  seems  to  me,  your  Grace,"  I  cried,  angry  all  at  once, 
"  it  seems  to  me  that  I  am  the  one  to  whom  you  should  ad- 
dress your  wagers.  I  am  not  a  jockey,  to  be  put  up  at  your 
whim,  and  to  give  you  the  chance  to  lose  money." 

Chartersea  swung  around  my  way. 

"  Your  pardon,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  he,  very  coolly,  very  po- 
litely;  "yours  is  the  choice  of  the  wager.  And  you  reject  it, 
the  others  must  be  called  off." 

•"Slife  !  I  double  it!"  I  said  hotly,  "provided  the  horse 
is  alive,  and  will  stand  up." 

"  Devilish  well  put,  Richard  ! "  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed,  casting 
off  his  restraint. 

"  I  give  you  my  word  the  horse  is  alive,  sir,"  he  answered, 
with  a  mock  bow  ;  "  'twas  only  yesterday  that  he  killed  his 
groom,  at  Hampstead." 

A  few  moments  of  silence  followed  this  revelation.  It  was 
Charles  Fox  who  spoke  first. 

"  I  make  no  doubt  that  your  Grace,  as  a  man  of  honour,"  — 
he  emphasized  the  word  forcibly,  —  "  will  not  refuse  to  ride 
the  horse  for  another  twenty  minutes,  provided  Mr.  Carvel  is 
successful.  And  I  will  lay  your  Grace  another  hundred  that 
you  are  thrown,  or  run  away  with." 

Truly,  to  cope  with  a  wit  like  Mr.  Fox's,  the  duke  had  need 
for  a  longer  head.  He  grew  livid  as  he  perceived  how  neatly 
he  had  been  snared  in  his  own  trap. 

"  Done  !  "  he  cried  loudly ;  "  done,  gentlemen.  It  only  re- 
mains to  hit  upon  time  and  place  for  the  contest.  I  go  to 
York  to-morrow,  to  be  back  this  day  fortnight.  And  if  you 
will  do  me  the  favour  of  arranging  with  Baltimore  for  the 
horse,  I  shall  be  obliged.  I  believe  he  intends  selling  it  to 
Astley,  the  showman." 

"  And  are  we  to  keep  it  ?  "  asks  Mr.  Fox. 

"  I  am  dealing  with  men  of  honour,"  says  the  duke,  with  a 
bow  :  "  I  need  have  no  better  assurance  that  the  horse  will  not 
be  ridden  in  the  interval." 


I 


MY  LORD  BALTIMORE   APPEARS  333 

"'Od  so!"  said  Comyn,  when  we  were  out;  "very  hand- 
some of  him.     But  I  would  not  say  as  much  for  his  Grace." 

And  Mr.  Fox  declared  that  the  duke  was  no  coward,  but  all 
other  epithets  known  might  be  called  him.  "  A  very  diverting 
evening,  Richard,"  said  he ;  "  let's  to  your  apartments  and  have 
a  bowl,  and  talk  it  over." 

And  thither  we  went. 

I  did  not  sleep  much  that  night,  but  'twas  of  Dolly  I  thought 
rather  than  of  Chartersea.  I  was  abroad  early,  and  over  to 
inquire  in  Arlington  Street,  where  I  found  she  had  passed  a 
good  night.  And  I  sent  Banks  a-hunting  for  some  violets  to 
send  her,  for  I  knew  she  loved  that  flower. 

Between  ten  and  eleven  Mr.  Eox  and  Comyn  and  I  set  out 
for  Baltimore  House.  When  you  go  to  London,  my  dears,  you 
will  find  a  vast  difference  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bloomsbury 
from  what  it  was  that  May  morning  in  1770.  Great  Russell 
Street  was  all  a  sweet  fragrance  of  gardens,  mingling  with  the 
smell  of  the  fields  from  the  open  country  to  the  north.  We 
drove  past  red  Montagu  House  with  its  stone  facings  and  dome, 
like  a  French  hotel,  and  the  cluster  of  buildings  at  its  great 
gate.  It  had  been  then  for  over  a  decade  the  British  Museum. 
The  ground  behind  it  was  a  great  resort  for  Londoners  of  that 
day.  Many  a  sad  affair  was  fought  there,  but  on  that  morn- 
ing we  saw  a  merry  party  on  their  way  to  play  prisoner's  base. 
Then  we  came  to  the  gardens  in  front  of  Bedford  House,  which 
are  now  Bloomsbury  Square.  For  my  part  I  preferred  this 
latter  mansion  to  the  French  creation  by  its  side,  and  admired 
its  long  and  graceful  lines.  Its  windows  commanded  a  sweep 
from  Holburn  on  the  south  to  Highgate  on  the  north.  To  the 
east  of  it,  along  Southampton  Row,  a  few  great  houses  had  gone 
up  or  were  building ;  and  at  the  far  end  of  that  was  Baltimore 
House,  overlooking  her  Grace  of  Bedford's  gardens.  Beyond, 
Lamb's  Conduit  Fields  stretched  away  to  the  countryside. 

I  own  I  had  a  lively  curiosity  to  see  that  lordly  ruler,  the 
proprietor  of  our  province,  whose  birthday  we  celebrated  after 
his  Majesty's.  Had  I  not  been  in  a  great  measure  prepared, 
I  should  have  had  a  revulsion  indeed. 


334  RICHARD  CARVEL 

Wlien  lie  heard  that  Mr.  Fox  and  my  Lord  Corayn  were 
below  stairs  he  gave  orders  to  show  them  up  to  his  bedroom^ 
where  he  received  us  in  a  night-gown  embroidered  with  oranges. 
My  Lord  Baltimore,  alas !  was  not  much  to  see.  He  did  not 
make  the  figure  a  ruler  should  as  he  sat  in  his  easy  chair,  and 
whined  and  cursed  his  Swiss.  He  was  scarce  a  year  over  forty, 
and  he  had  all  but  run  his  race.  Dissipation  and  corrosion  had 
set  their  seal  upon  him,  had  stamped  his  yellow  face  with  crows'- 
teet  and  blotted  it  with  pimples.  But  then  the  glimpse  of  a 
fine  gentleman  just  out  of  bed  of  a  morning,  before  he  is  made 
for  the  day,  is  unfair. 

"  Morning,  Charles !  Howdy,  Jack ! "  said  his  Lordship, 
apathetically.  "  Glad  to  know  you,  Mr.  Carvel.  Heard  of  your 
family.  'Slife!  Wish  there  were  more  like  'em  in  the 
province." 

This  sentiment  not  sitting  very  well  upon  his  Lordship,  I 
bowed,  and  said  nothing. 

"  By  the  bye,"  he  continued,  pouring  out  his  chocolate  into 
the  dish,  "  I  sent  a  damned  rake  of  a  parson  out  there  some 
years  gone.  Handsome  devil,  too.  Never  seen  his  match  with 
the  Avomen,  egad.  'Od's  fish  —  "  he  leered.  And  then  added 
with  an  oath  and  a  nod  and  a  vile  remark :  "  Married  three 
times,  to  my  knowledge.  Carried  off  dozen  or  so  more.  Some 
of  'em  for  me.  Many  a  good  night  I've  had  with  him.  Drank 
between  us  one  evening  at  Essex's  gallon  and  half  Champagne 
and  Burgundy  apiece.  He  got  to  know  too  much,  y'  know," 
he  concluded,  with  a  wicked  wink.  "  Had  to  buy  him  up  — 
pack  him  off." 

"  His  name,  Fred  ?  "  said  Comyn,  with  a  smile  at  me. 

"'Sdeath!  That's  it.  Trouble  to  remember.  Damned  if  I 
can  think."     And  he  repeated  this  remark  over  and  over. 

"  Allen  ?  "  said  Comyn. 

"Yes,"  said  Baltimore;  "Allen.  And  egad  I  think  he'll 
find  hell  a  hotter  place  than  me.   You  know  him,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied.  I  said  no  more.  I  make  no  reservations 
when  I  avow  I  was  never  so  disgusted  in  my  life.  But  as  I 
looked  upon  him,  haggard  and  worn,  with  retribution  so  nea? 
3.t  hand,  I  had  no  words  to  protest  or  condemn. 


MY  LORD  BALTIMORE  APPEARS     335 

Baltimore  gave  a  hollow  mirthless  laugh,  stopped  short,  and 
iooked  at  Charles  Fox. 

''  Curse  you,  Charles !  I  suppose  you  are  after  that  little 
matter  I  owe  you  for  quinze." 

"  Damn  the  little  matter ! "  said  Fox.  "  Come,  get  you  per- 
fumed and  dressed,  and  order  up  some  of  your  Tokay  while  we 
wait.  I  have  to  go  to  St.  Stephens.  Mr.  Carvel  has  come  to 
buy  your  horse  Pollux.  He  has  bet  Chartersea  two  hundred 
guineas  he  rides  him  for  twenty  minutes." 

"  The  devil  he  has ! "  cried  his  Lordship,  jaded  no  longer. 
"  Why,  you  must  know,  Mr.  Carvel,  there  was  no  groom  in  my 
stables  who  would  sit  him  until  Foley  made  me  a  present  of  his 
man,  Miller,  who  started  to  ride  him  to  Hyde  Park.  As  he 
came  out  of  Great  Russell  Street,  by  gad's  life  !  the  horse  broke 
and  ran  out  the  Tottenham  Court  Road  all  the  way  to  Ham{> 
stead.  And  the  fiend  picked  out  a  big  stone  water  trough, 
and  tossed  Miller  against  it.  Then  they  gathered  up  the  frag- 
ments. Damme  if  I  like  to  see  suicide,  Mr.  Carvel.  If  Char- 
tersea wants  to  kill  you,  let  him  try  it  in  the  fields  behind 
Montagu  House  here." 

I  told  his  Lordship  that  I  had  made  the  wager,  and  could  not 
in  honour  withdraw,  though  the  horse  had  killed  a  dozen 
grooms.  But  already  he  seemed  to  have  lost  interest.  He 
gave  a  languid  pull  at  the  velvet  tassel  on  his  bell-rope, 
ordered  the  wine;  and,  being  informed  that  his  anteroom 
below  was  full  of  people,  had  them  all  dismissed  with  the 
message  that  he  was  engaged  upon  important  affairs.  He  told 
Mr.  Fox  he  had  heard  of  the  Jerusalem  Chamber,  and  vowed 
he  would  have  a  like  institution.  He  told  me  he  wished  the 
colony  of  Maryland  in  hell ;  that  he  was  worn  out  with  the 
quarrels  of  Governor  Eden  and  his  Assembly,  and  offered  to 
lay  a  guinea  that  the  Governor's  agent  would  get  to  him  that 
day,  —  will-he,  nill-he.  1  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
argue  with  such  a  man. 

My  Lord  took  three-quarters  of  an  hour  to  dress,  and  swore 
he  had  not  accomplished  the  feat  so  quickly  in  a  year.  He 
washed  his  hands  and  face  in  a  silver  basin,  and  the  scent  of 
the   soap   filled   the   room.     He   rated  his   Swiss  for  putting 


336  KICHAKD   CARVEL 

cinnamon  upon  his  ruffles  in  place  of  attar  of  roses,  and 
attempted  to  regale  us  the  while  with  some  of  his  choicest 
adventures.  In  more  than  one  of  these,  by  the  way,  his  Grace 
of  Chartersea  figured.     It  was  Fox  who  brought  him  up. 

"  See  here,  Baltimore,"  he  said,  "  I'm  not  squeamish.  But 
I'm  cursed  if  I  like  to  hear  a  man  who  may  die  any  time  be- 
tween bottles  talk  so." 

His  Lordship  took  the  rebuke  with  an  oath,  and  presently 
hobbled  down  the  stairs  of  the  great  and  silent  house  to  the 
stable  court,  where  two  grooms  were  in  waiting  with  the  horse. 
He  was  an  animal  of  amazing  power,  about  sixteen  hands,  and 
dapple  gray  iu  colour.  And  it  required  no  special  knowledge 
'o  see  that  he  had  a  devil  inside  him.  It  gleamed  wickedly 
out  of  his  eye. 

"  'Od's  life,  Richard ! "  cried  Charles,  "  he  has  a  Jew  nose ; . 
by  all  the  seven  tribes  I  bid  you  'ware  of  him." 

"  You  have  but  to  ride  him  with  a  gold  bit,  Richard,"  said 
Comyn,  "  and  he  is  a  kitten,  I'll  warrant." 

At  that  moment  Pollux  began  to  rear  and  kick,  so  that  it 
took  both  the  'ostlers  to  hold  him. 

"  Show  him  a  sovereign,"  suggested  Fox.  "  How  do  you 
feel,  Richard  ?  " 

"  I  never  feared  a  horse  yet,"  I  said  with  perfect  truth,  "  nor 
do  I  fear  this  one,  though  I  know  he  may  kill  me." 

"  I'll  lay  you  twenty  pounds  you  have  at  least  one  bone 
broken,  and  ten  that  you  are  killed,"  Baltimore  puts  in  queru- 
lously, from  the  doorway. 

"  I'll  do  this,  my  Lord,"  I  answered.  "  If  I  ride  him,  he  is 
mine.     If  he  throws  me,  I  give  you  twenty  pounds  for  him." 

The  gentlemen  laughed,  and  Baltimore  vowed  he  could  sell 
the  horse  to  Astley  for  fifty ;  that  Pollux  was  the  son  of 
Renown,  of  the  Duke  of  Kingston's  stud,  and  much  more.  But 
Charles  rallied  him  out  by  a  reference  to  the  debt  at  quinze, 
and  an  appeal  to  his  honour  as  a  sportsman.  And  swore  he 
was  discouraging  one  of  the  prettiest  encounters  that  would 
take  place  in  England  for  many  a  long  day.  And  so  the  horse 
was  sent  to  the  stables  of  the  White  Horse  Cellar,  in  Picca- 
dilly, and  left  there  at  my  order. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

A   GLIMPSE   OF   MR.    GARRICK 

Day  after  day  I  went  to  Arlington  Street,  each  time  to  be 
turned  away  with  the  same  answer:  that  Miss  Manners  was 
a  shade  better,  but  still  confined  to  her  bed.  You  will  scarce 
believe  me,  my  dears,  when  I  say  that  Mr.  Marmaduke  had 
gone  at  this  crisis  with  his  Grace  to  the  York  races.  On  the 
fourth  morning,  I  think,  I  saw  Mrs.  Manners.  She  was  much 
worn  with  the  vigil  she  had  kept,  and  received  me  with  an 
apathy  to  frighten  me.  Her  way  with  me  had  hitherto  always 
been  one  of  kindness  and  warmth.  In  answer  to  the  dozen 
questions  I  showered  upon  her,  she  replied  that  Dorothy's 
malady  was  in  no  wise  dangerous,  so  Dr.  James  had  said,  and 
undoubtedly  arose  out  of  the  excitement  of  a  London  season. 
As  I  knew,  Dorothy  was  of  the  kind  that  must  run  and  run 
until  she  dropped.  She  had  no  notion  of  the  measure  of  her 
own  strength.  Mrs.  Manners  hoped  that,  in  a  fortnight,  she 
would  be  recovered  sufficiently  to  be  removed  to  one  of  the 
baths. 

"  She  wishes  me  to  thank  you  for  the  flowers,  Richard. 
She  has  them  constantly  by  her.  And  bids  me  tell  you  how 
sorry  she  is  that  she  is  compelled  to  miss  so  much  of  your 
visit  to  England,  Are  you  enjoying  London,  Richard?  I 
hear  that  you  are  well  liked  by  the  best  of  company." 

I  left,  prodigiously  cast  down,  and  went  directly  to  Mr. 
Wedgwood's,  to  choose  the  prettiest  set  of  tea-cups  and  dishes 
I  could  find  there.  I  pitied  Mrs.  Manners  from  my  heart,  and 
made  every  allowance  for  her  talk  with  me,  knowing  the  sorrow 
of  her  life.  Here  was  yet  another  link  in  the  chain  of  the 
Chartersea  evidence.  And  I  made  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Manners'-^, 
r  337 


338  EICHARD   CAEVEL 

brutal  desertion  at  such  a  time  must  be  hard  to  bear.  I  con 
tinned  my  visits  of  inquiry,  nearly  always  meeting  some 
person  of  consequence,  or  the  footman  of  such,  come  on  the 
same  errand  as  myself.  And  once  I  encountered  the  young 
man  she  had  championed  against  his  Grace  at  Lady  Tanker- 
ville's. 

Rather  than  face  the  array  of  anxieties  that  beset  me,  I 
plunged  recklessly  into  the  gayeties — nay,  the  excesses  —  of 
Mr.  Charles  Fox  and  his  associates.  I  paid,  in  truth,  a  very 
high  price  for  my  friendship  with  Mr.  Fox.  But,  since  it  did 
not  quite  ruin  me,  I  look  back  upon  it  as  cheaply  bought.  To 
know  the  man  well,  to  be  the  subject  of  his  regard,  was  to  feel 
an  infatuation  in  common  with  the  little  band  of  worshippers 
which  had  come  with  him  from  Eton.  They  remained  faithful 
to  him  all  his  days,  nor  adversity  nor  change  of  opinion  could 
shake  their  attachment.  They  knew  his  faults,  deplored  them, 
and  paid  for  them.  And  this  was  not  beyond  my  compre- 
hension, tho'  many  have  wondered  at  it.  Did  he  ask  me  for 
five  hundred  pounds,  —  which  he  did,  —  I  gave  it  freely,  and 
would  gladly  have  given  more,  tho'  I  saw  it  all  wasted  in  a  night 
when  the  dice  rolled  against  him.  For  those  honoured  few  of 
whom  I  speak  likewise  knew  his  virtues,  which  were  quite  as 
large  as  the  faults,  albeit  so  mingled  with  them  that  all  might 
not  distinguish. 

I  attended  some  of  the  routs  and  parties,  to  all  of  which,  as 
a  young  colonial  gentleman  of  wealth  and  family,  I  was  made 
welcome.  I  went  to  a  ball  at  Lord  Stanley's,  a  mixture  of 
French  horns  and  clarionets  and  coloured  glass  lanthorns  and 
candles  in  gilt  vases,  and  young  ladies  pouring  tea  in  white, 
and  musicians  in  red,  and  draperies  and  flowers  ad  libitum. 
Thei*e  I  met  Mr.  Walpole,  looking  on  very  critically.  He  was 
the  essence  of  friendliness,  asked  after  my  equerry,  and  said  1 
had  done  well  to  ship  him  to  America.  At  the  opera,  with 
Lord  Ossory  and  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  I  talked  through  the  round  of 
the  boxes,  from  Lady  Pembroke's  on  the  right  to  Lady  Hervey's 
on  the  left,  where  Dolly's  illness  and  Lady  Harrington's 
snuffing  gabble  were  the  topics  rather  than  Giardini's  fiddling. 
Mr.  Storer  took  me  to  Foote's  dressing-room  at  the  Hay  market 


A   GLIMPSE   OF   MR.   GARRICK  339 

where  we  found  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  lounging.  I  was 
presented,  and  thought  his  Royal  Highness  had  far  less  dig- 
nity than  the  monkey-comedian  we  had  come  to  see. 

I  must  not  forget  the  visit  I  made  to  Drury  Lane  Playhouse 
with  my  Lords  Carlisle  and  Grantham  and  Comyn.  The  great 
actor  received  me  graciously  in  such  a  company,  you  may  be 
sure.  He  appeared  much  smaller  off  the  boards  than  on,  and 
his  actions  and  speech  were  quick  and  nervous.  Gast,  his 
hairdresser,  was  making  him  up  for  the  character  of  Rich- 
ard III. 

*"Ods!"  said  Mr.  Garrick,  "your  Lordships  come  five 
minutes  too  late.  Goldsmith  is  but  just  gone  hence,  fresh 
from  his  tailor,  Filby,  of  Water  Lane.  The  most  gorgeous 
creature  in  London,  gentlemen,  I'll  be  sworn.  He  is  even 
now,  so  he  would  have  me  know,  gone  by  invitation  to  my 
Lord  Denbigh's  box,  to  ogle  the  ladies." 

"  And  have  you  seen  your  latest  lampoon,  Mr.  Garrick  ? " 
usks  Comyn,  winking  at  me. 

Up  leaps  Mr.  Garrick,  so  suddenly  as  to  knock  the  paint-pot 
from  Cast's  hand. 

"  Nay,  your  Lordship  jests,  surely ! "  he  cried,  his  voice 
shaking. 

"  Jests  !  "  says  my  Lord,  very  serious ;  "  do  I  jest,  Carlisle  ?  " 
And  turning  to  Mr.  Cross,  the  prompter,  who  stood  by,  "  Fetch 
me  the  St.  James's  Evening  Post,"  says  he. 

"  'Ods  my  life ! "  continues  poor  Garrick,  almost  in  tears ; 
"  I  have  loaned  Foote  upwards  of  two  thousand  pounds.  And 
last  year,  as  your  Lordship  remembers,  took  charge  of  his 
theatre  when  his  leg  was  cut  off.  'Pon  my  soul,  I  cannot 
account  for  his  ingratitude." 

"  'Tis  not  Foote,"  says  Carlisle,  biting  his  lip ;  "  I  know 
Foote's  mark." 

"  Then  Johnson,"  says  the  actor,  "  because  I  would  not  let 
him  have  my  fine  books  in  his  dirty  den  to  be  kicked  about 
the  floor,  but  put  my  library  at  his  disposal — " 

*'  Nay,  nor  Johnson.     Nor  yet  Macklin  nor  Murphy." 

"  Surely  not  —  "  cries  Mr.  Garrick,  turning  white  under  the 
rouge.     The  name  remained  unpronounced. 


340  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Ay,  ay,  Junius,  in  the  Evening  Post.  He  has  fastened 
upon  you  at  last,"  answers  Comyn,  taking  the  paper. 

"  'Sdeath !  Garrick,"  Carlisle  puts  in,  very  solemn,  "  what 
have  you  done  to  offend  the  Terrible  Unknown  ?  Talebearing 
to  his  Majesty,  I'll  warrant !  I  gave  you  credit  for  more  dis- 
cretion." 

At  these  words  Mr.  Garrick  seized  the  chair  for  support, 
and  swung  heavily  into  it.  Whereat  the  young  lords  burst 
into  such  a  tempest  of  laughter  that  I  could  not  refrain  from 
joining  them.  As  for  Mr.  Garrick,  he  was  so  pleased  to  have 
escaped  that  he  laughed  too,  though  with  a  palpable  ner- 
vousness.^ 

"  By  the  bye,  Garrick,"  Carlisle  remarked  slyly,  when  he 
had  recovered,  "  Mrs.  Crewe  was  vastly  taken  with  the  last 
vers  you  left  on  her  dressing-table." 

"  Was  she,  now,  my  Lord  ?  "  said  the  great  actor,  delighted, 
but  scarce  over  his  fright.  "  You  must  know  that  I  have  writ 
one  to  my  Lady  Carlisle,  on  the  occasion  of  her  dropping  her 
fan  in  Piccadilly."  Whereupon  he  proceeded  to  recite  it,  and 
my  Lord  Carlisle,  being  something  of  a  poet  himself,  pro- 
nounced it  excellent. 

Mr.  Garrick  asked  me  many  questions  concerning  American 
life  and  manners,  having  a  play  in  his  repertory  the  scene  of 
which  was  laid  in  New  York.  In  the  midst  of  this  we  were 
interrupted  by  a  dirty  fellow  who  ran  in,  crying  excitedly  : '- — 

"■  Sir,  the  Archbishop  of  York  is  getting  drunk  at  the  Bear, 
and  swears  he'll  be  d — d  if  he'll  act  to-night." 

"  The  archbishop  may  go  to  the  devil  !  "  snapped  Mr.  Gar- 
rick.    "  I  do  not  know  a  greater  rascal,  except  yourself." 

I  was  little  short  of  thunderstruck.  But  presently  Mr, 
Garrick  added  complainingly  :  — 

"  I  paid  a  guinea  for  the  archbishop,  but  the  fellow  got  me 
three  murderers  to-day  and  the  best  alderman  I  ever  clapped 
eyes  upon.     So  we  are  square." 

After  the  play  we  supped  with  him  at  his  new  house  in 
Adelphi   Terrace,   next    Topham    Beauclerk's.      'Twas   hand- 

1  Note  by  the  editor.  It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Mr.  Garrick's  punish- 
nent  came,  and  for  the  selfsame  offence. 


A   GLIMPSE    OF   MR.    GARRICK  341 

somely  built  in  the  Italian  style,  and  newly  furnished  through- 
out, for  Mr.  Garrick  travelled  now  with  a  coach  and  six  and 
four  men  servants,  forsooth.  And  amongst  other  things  he 
took  pride  in  showing  us  that  night  was  a  handsome  snuff- 
box which  the  King  of  Denmark  had  given  him  the  year 
before,  his  Majesty's  portrait  set  in  jewels  thereon. 

Presently  the  news  of  the  trial  of  Lord  Baltimore's  horse 
cegan  to  be  noised  about,  and  Avas  followed  by  a  deluge  of 
wagers  at  Brooks's  and  White's  and  elsewhere.  Comyn  and 
Fox,  my  chief  supporters,  laid  large  sums  upon  me,  despite 
all  my  persuasion.  But  the  most  unpleasant  part  of  the 
publicity  was  the  rumour  that  the  match  was  connected  with 
the  struggle  for  Miss  Manners's  hand.  I  was  pressed  w^ith 
invitations  to  go  into  the  country  to  ride  this  or  that  horse. 
His  Grace  the  Duke  of  Grafton  had  a  mount  he  would  have 
zae  try  at  Wakefield  Lodge,  and  was  far  from  pleasant  over 
2ay  refusal  of  his  invitation.  I  was  besieged  by  young  noble- 
iien  like  Lord  Derby  and  Lord  Foley,  until  I  was  heartily 
sick  of  notoriety,  and  cursed  the  indiscretion  of  the  person 
who  let  out  the  news,  and  my  own  likewise.  My  Lord 
March,  who  did  me  the  honour  to  lay  one  hundred  pounds 
apon  my  skill,  insisted  that  I  should  make  one  of  a  party  to 
ihe  famous  amphitheatre  near  Lambeth.  Mr.  Astley,  the 
showman,  being  informed  of  his  Lordship's  intention,  met  us 
on  Westminster  Bridge  dressed  in  his  uniform  as  sergeant- 
major  of  the  Royal  Light  Dragoons  and  mounted  on  a  white 
charger.  He  escorted  us  to  one  of  the  large  boxes  under  the 
pent-house  reserved  for  the  gentry.  And  when  the  show  was 
over  and  the  place  cleared,  begged  that  I  would  ride  his  Ind- 
ian Chief.  I  refused ;  but  March  pressed  me,  and  Comyn 
declared  he  had  staked  his  reputation  upon  my  horsemanship. 
Astley  was  a  large  man,  about  my  build,  and  I  donned  a  paii 
of  his  leather  breeches  and  boots,  and  put  Indian  Chief  to  his 
paces  around  the  ring.  I  found  him  no  more  restive,  nor  as 
much  so,  as  Firefly.  The  gentlemen  were  good  enough  to  clap 
me  roundly,  and  Astley  vowed  (no  doubt  because  of  the  noble 
patrons  present)  that  he  had  never  seen  a  better  seat. 

We   all  repaired  afterwards   for  supper  to   Don   Saltero's 


342  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Coffee  House  and  Museum  in  Chelsea.  And  I  remembered 
having  heard  my  grandfather  speak  of  the  place,  and  tell 
how  he  had  seen  Sir  Richard  Steele  there,  listening  to  the 
Don  scraping  away  at  the  "  Merry  Christ  Church  Bells  "  on 
his  fiddle.  The  Don  was  since  dead,  but  King  James's  coro- 
nation sword  and  King  Henry  VIII.'s  coat  of  mail  still  hung 
on  the  walls. 

The  remembrance  of  that  fortnight  has  ever  been  an  appall- 
ing one.  Mr.  Carvel  had  never  attempted  to  teach  me  the 
value  of  money.  My  grandfather,  indeed,  held  but  four  things 
essential  to  the  conduct  of  life ;  namely,  to  fear  God,  love  the 
King,  pay  your  debts,  and  pursue  your  enemies.  There  was  no 
one  in  London  to  advise  me,  Comyn  being  but  a  wild  lad  like 
myself.     But  my  Lord  Carlisle  gave  me  a  friendly  warning :  — 

"  Have  a  care,  Carvel,"  said  he,  kindly,  "  or  you  will  run 
your  grandfather  through,  and  all  your  relations  beside.  I 
little  realized  the  danger  of  it  when  I  first  came  up."  (He  was 
not  above  two  and  twenty  then.)  "  And  now  I  have  a  wife. 
am  more  crippled  than  I  care  to  be,  thanks  to  this  devilish 
high  play.  Will  you  dine  with  Lady  Carlisle  in  St.  James's 
Place  next  Friday  ?  " 

My  heart  went  out  to  this  young  nobleman.  Handsome  he 
was,  as  a  picture.  And  he  knew  better  than  most  of  your  fine 
gentlemen  how  to  put  a  check  on  his  inclinations.  As  a  friend 
he  had  few  equals,  his  purse  being  ever  at  the  command  of 
those  he  loved.  And  his  privations  on  Fox's  account  were 
already  greater  than  many  knew. 

I  had  a  call,  too,  from  Mr.  Dix.  I  found  him  in  my  parlour 
one  morning,  cringing  and  smiling,  and,  as  usual,  half  an  hour 
away  from  his  point. 

"  I  warrant  you,  Mr.  Carvel,"  says  he,  "  there  are  few  young 
gentlemen  not  born  among  the  elect  that  make  the  great 
friends  you  are  blessed  with." 

"  I  have  been  fortunate,  Mr.  Dix,"  I  replied  fdryly. 

"  Fortunate ! "  he  cried ;  "  good  Lord,  sir !  I  hear  of  you 
everywhere  with  Mr.  Fox,  and  you  have  been  to  Astley's  with 
my  Lord  March.     And  I  have  a  draft  from  you  at  Ampthill." 

*'  Vastly  well  manoeuvred,  Mr.  Dix,"  I  said,  laughing  at  the 


A   GLIMPSE   OF  MR.    GARRICK  343 

guilty  change  iu  his  pink  complexion.  "  And  hence  you  are 
here." 

He  fidgeted,  and  seeing  that  I  paid  him  no  attention,  but 
went  on  with  my  chocolate,  he  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket 
and  opened  it. 

"  You  have  sj)ent  a  prodigious  sum,  sir,  for  so  short  a  time, ' 
said  he,  unsteadily.  "  'Tis  very  well  for  you,  Mr.  Carvel,  but 
I  have  to  remember  tliat  you  are  heir  only.  I  am  advancing 
you  money  without  advices  from  his  Worship,  your  grand- 
father. A  most  irregular  proceeding,  sir,  and  one  likely  to 
lead  me  to  trouble.     I  know  not  what  your  allowance  may  be." 

"Nor  I,  Mr.  Dix,"  I  replied,  unreasonably  enough.  "To 
speak  truth,  I  have  never  had  one.  You  have  my  Lord 
Comyn's  signature  to  protect  you,"  I  went  on  ill-naturedly, 
for  I  had  not  had  enough  sleep.  "And  in  case  Mr.  Carvel 
protests,  which  is  unlikely  and  preposterous,  you  shall  have 
ten  percentum  on  your  money  until  I  can  pay  you.  That 
should  be  no  poor  investment." 

He  apologized.     But  he  smoothed  out  the  paper  on  his  knee. 

"  It  is  only  right  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Carvel,  that  you  have 
spent  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty-seven  odd  pounds, 
in  home  money,  which  is  worth  more  than  your  colonial.  Your 
grandfather's  balance  with  me  was  something  less  than  one 
thousand  five  hundred,  as  I  made  him  a  remittance  in  Decem- 
ber last.  I  have  advanced  the  rest.  And  yesterda}^,"  he  went 
on,  resolutely  for  him,  "  yesterday  I  got  an  order  for  five  hun- 
dred more." 

And  he  handed  me  the  paper.  I  must  own  that  the  figures 
startled  me.     I  laid  it  down  with  a  fine  show  of  indifference. 

"  And  so  you  wish  me  to  stop  drawing  ?  Very  good,  Mr. 
Dix." 

He  must  have  seen  some  threat  implied,  though  I  meant 
none.  He  was  my  very  humble  servant  at  once,  and  declared 
he  had  called  only  to  let  me  know  where  I  stood.  Then  he 
bowed  himself  out,  wishing  me  luck  with  the  horse  he  had 
heard  of,  and  I  lighted  my  pipe  with  his  accompt. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE   SERPENTINE 

Whether  it  was  Mr.  Dix  that  started  nie  reflecting,  or  my 
Lord  Carlisle's  warning,  or  a  few  discreet  words  from  young 
Lady  Carlisle  herself,  I  know  not.  At  all  events,  I  made  a 
resolution  to  stop  high  play,  and  confine  myself  to  whist  and 
quinze  and  picquet.  For  I  conceived  a  notion,  enlarged  by  Mr. 
Fox,  that  I  had  more  than  once  fallen  into  the  tender  clutches 
of  the  hounds.  I  was  so  reflecting  the  morning  following  Lord 
Carlisle's  dinner,  when  Banks  announced  a  footman. 

"  Mr.  Manners's  man,  sir,"  he  added  significantly,  and  handed 
me  a  little  note.  I  seized  it,  and,  to  hide  my  emotion,  told  him 
to  give  the  man  his  beer. 

The  writing  was  Dorothy's,  and  some  time  passed  after  I 
had  torn  off  the  wrapper  before  I  could  compose  myself  to 
read  it. 

"  So,  Sir,  the  Moment  I  am  too  111  to  watch  you  you  must 
needs  lapse  into  Wilde  &  Flity  Doings,  for  thus  y'rs  are  call'd 
even  in  London.  Never  Mind  how  y'r  Extravigancies  are  come 
to  my  Ears  Sir.  One  Matter  I  have  herd  that  I  am  Most  Con- 
cerned about,  &  I  pray  you,  my  Dear  Richard  do  not  allow  y'r 
Recklessness  &  Contemt  for  Danger  to  betray  you  into  a  Stil 
more  Amazing  Follie  or  I  shall  be  very  Miserable  Indeed.  I 
have  Hopes  that  the  Report  is  at  Best  a  Rumour  &  you  must 
sit  down  &  write  me  that  it  is  Sir  that  my  Minde  may  be  set 
at  Rest.  I  fear  for  you  Vastly  &  I  beg  you  not  Riske  y'r  Life 
Foolishly  &  this  for  the  Sake  of  one  who  subscribs  herself  y'r 
Old  Plamate  &  Well  Wisher  Dolly. 

"P.S.  I  have  writ  Sir  Jon  Fielding  to  put  you  in  the  Mar- 
shallsee  or  New  Gate  until  Mr.  Carvel  can  be  tolde.     I  am 

344 


THE   SERPENTINE  345 

Better  &  hope  soon  to  see  you  agen  &  have  been  informed  of 
y'r  Dayly  Visitts  &  y'r  Flowers  are  beside  me.  D.  M." 

In  about  an  hour  and  a  half,  Mr.  Marmaduke's  footman  was 
on  his  way  back  to  Arlington  Street  in  a  condition  not  to  be 
lightly  spoken  of.  During  that  period  I  had  committed  an 
hundred  silly  acts,  and  incidentally  learned  the  letter  by  heart. 
I  was  much  distressed  to  think  that  she  had  heard  of  the  affair 
of  the  horse,  and  more  so  to  surmise  that  the  gossip  which  clung 
to  it  must  also  have  reached  her.  But  I  fear  I  thought  most 
of  her  anxiety  concerning  me,  which  reflection  caused  my  hand 
to  shake  from  very  happiness.  "  Y'r  Flowers  are  beside  me," 
and  "I  beg  you  not  Riske  y'r  Life  Foolishly,"  and  "I  shall 
be  very  Miserable  Indeed  "  !  But  then  :  "  Y'r  Old  Plamate  & 
Well  Wisher  "  !     Nay,  she  was  inscrutable  as  ever. 

And  my  reply,  —  what  was  that  to  be  ?  How  I  composed 
it  in  the  state  of  mind  I  was  in,  I  have  no  conception  to  this 
day.  The  chimney  was  clogged  with  papers  ere  fin  a  spelling 
to  vie  with  Dolly's)  I  had  set  down  my  devotion,  my  undying 
devotion,  to  her  interests.  I  asked  forgiveness  for  my  cruelty 
on  that  memorable  morning  I  had  last  seen  her.  But  even  to 
allude  to  the  bet  with  Chartersea  was  beyond  my  powers ;  and 
as  for  renouncing  it,  though  for  her  sake, — that  was  not  to 
be  thought  of.  The  high  play  I  readily  promised  to  avoid  in 
the  future,  and  I  signed  myself,  —  well,  it  matters  not  after 
seventy  years. 

The  same  day,  Tuesday,  I  received  a  letter  from  his  Grace 
of  Chartersea  saying  that  he  looked  to  reach  London  that 
night,  but  very  late.  He  begged  that  Mr.  Fox  and  Lord 
Comyn  and  I  would  sup  with  him  at  the  Star  and  Garter  at 
eleven,  to  fix  matters  for  the  trial  on  the  morrow.  Mr.  Fox 
could  not  go,  but  Comyn  and .  I  went  to  the  inn,  having  first 
attended  "The  Tempest"  at  Drury  Lane  with  Lady  Di  and 
Mr.  Beauclerk. 

We  found  his  Grace  awaiting  us  in  a  private  room,  with 
Captain  Lewis,  of  the  60th  Foot,  who  had  figured  as  a  second 
in  the  duel  with  young  Atwater.  The  captain  was  a  rake  and 
a  bully  and  a  toadeater,  of  course,  with  a  loud  and  profane 


346  RICHARD   CARVEL 

tongue,  and  he  had  had  a  bottle  too  many  in  the  duke's  travel 
ling-coach.  There  was  likewise  a  Sir  John  Brooke,  a  country- 
neighbour  of  his  Grace  in  Nottinghamshire.  Sir  John  ap- 
parently had  no  business  in  such  company.  He  was  a  hearty, 
fox-hunting  squire  who  had  seen  little  of  London;  a  three- 
bottle  man  who  told  a  foul  story  and  went  asleep  immediately 
afterwards.  Much  to  my  disappointment,  Mr.  Manners  had 
gone  to  Arlington  Street  direct.  I  had  longed  for  a  chance 
to  speak  a  little  of  my  mind  to  him. 

This  meeting,  which  I  shall  not  take  the  time  to  recount, 
was  near  to  ending  in  an  open  breach  of  negotiations.  His 
Grace  had  lost  money  at  York,  and  more  to  Lewis  on  the  way 
to  London.  He  was  in  one  of  his  vicious  humours.  He  in- 
sisted that  Hyde  Park  should  be  the  place  of  the  contest.  In 
vain  did  Comyn  and  I  plead  for  some  less  public  spot  on 
account  of  the  disagreeable  advertisement  the  matter  had 
received.  His  Grace  would  be  damned  before  he  would  yield' 
and  Lewis,  adding  a  more  forcible  contingency,  hinted  that 
our  side  feared  a  public  trial.     Comyn  presently  shut  him  up. 

"Do  you  ride  the  horse  after  his  Grace  is  thrown,"  says 
he,  "and  I  agree  to  get  on  after  and  he  does  not  kill  you. 
'Sdeath !  I  am  not  of  the  army,"  adds  my  Lord,  cuttingly ; 
"  I  am  a  seaman,  and  not  supposed  to  know  a  stirrup  from  a 
snaf&e." 

"  'Od's  blood ! "  yelled  the  captain,  "  you  question  my  horse- 
manship, my  Lord  ?  Do  I  understand  your  Lordship  to  ques- 
tion my  courage  ?  " 

"  After  I  am  thrown !  "  cries  his  Grace,  very  ugly,  and  finger- 
ing the  jewels  on  his  hilt. 

Sir  John  was  awakened  by  the  noise,  and  turning  heavily 
spilled  the  whole  of  a  pint  of  port  on  the  duke's  satin  waist- 
coat and  breeches.  Whereat  Chartersea  in  a  rage  flung  the 
bottle  at  his  head  with  a  curse,  which  it  seems  was  a  habit 
with  his  Grace.  But  the  servants  coming  in,  headed  by  my 
old  friend  the  chamberlain,  they  quieted  down.  And  it  was 
presently  agreed  that  the  horse  was  to  be  at  noon  in  the 
King's  Old  Road,  or  Rotten  Row  (cts  it  was  then  beginning  to 
hp.  <ialled),  in  Hyde  Park. 


THE   SERPENTINE  347 

I  shall  carry  to  the  grave  the  memory  of  the  next  day.  I 
was  up  betimes,  and  over  to  the  White  Horse  Cellar  to  see 
Pollux  groomed,  where  I  found  a  crowd  about  the  opening  into 
the  stable  court.  "  The  young  American ! "  called  some  one,  and 
to  my  astonishment  and  no  small  annoyance  I  was  greeted  with 
a  "  Huzzay  for  you,  sir !  "  "  My  groat's  on  your  honour  !  " 
This  good-will  was  owing  wholly  to  the  duke's  unpopularity 
with  all  classes.  Inside,  sporting  gentlemen  in  hunting-frocks 
of  red  and  green,  and  velvet  visored  caps,  were  shouldering 
favoured  'ostlers  from  the  different  noblemen's  stables;  and 
there  was  a  liberal  sprinkling  of  the  characters  who  attended 
the  cock  mains  in  Drury  Lane  and  at  Newmarket.  At  the 
moment  of  iny  arrival  the  head  'ostler  was  rubbing  down  the 
stallion's  flank. 

"Here's  ten  pounds  to  ride  him,  Saunders!"  called  one  of 
the  hunting-frocks. 

"  Umph  !  "  sniffed  the  'ostler ;  "  ride  'im  is  it,  yere  honour  ? 
Two  hunner  beant  eno',  an'  a  Portugal  crown  i'  tli'  boot. 
Sooner  take  me  chaunces  o'  Tyburn  on  'Ounslow  'Eath.  An 
Miller  waurna  able  to  sit  'im,  'tis  no  for  th'  likes  o'  me  to  try 
Th'  bloody  devil  took  th'  shirt  off  Teddy's  back  this  morn.  1 
adwises  th'  young  Buckskin  t'  order  's  coffin."  Just  then  he 
perceived  me,  and  touched  his  cap,  something  abashed.  "  With 
submission,  sir,  y'r  honour'll  take  an  old  man's  adwise  an'  not 
go  near  'im." 

Pollux's  appearance,  indeed,  was  not  calculated  to  reassure 
me.  He  looked  ugly  to  exaggeration,  his  ears  laid  back  and 
his  nostrils  as  big  as  crowns,  and  his  teeth  bared  time  and 
time.  Now  and  anon  an  impatient  fling  of  his  hoof  would 
make  the  grooms  start  away  from  him.  Since  coming  to  the 
inn  he  had  been  walked  a  couple  of  miles  each  day,  with  two 
men  with  loaded  whips  to  control  him.  I  was  being  offered  a 
deal  of  counsel,  when  big  Mr.  Astley  came  in  from  Lambeth^ 
and  silenced  them  all. 

"These  grooms,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said  to  me,  as  we  took  a 
Oottle  in  private  inside,  "  these  grooms  are  the  very  devil  for 
superstition.  And  once  a  horse  gets  a  bad  name  with  them, 
good-by  to   him.     Miller   knew  how  to   ride,  of   course,  but 


348  EICHARD   CARVEL 

like  many  another  of  them,  was  too  damned  over-confident.  1 
warned  him  more  than  once  for  getting  young  horses  into  a 
fret,  and  I'm  willing  to  lay  a  ten-pound  note  that  he  angered 
Pollux.  'Od's  life  !  He  is  a  vicious  beast.  So  was  his  father, 
Culloden,  before  him.  But  here's  luck  to  you,  sir ! "  says 
Mr.  Astley,  tipping  his  glass ;  "  having  seen  you  ride,  egad !  I 
have  put  all  the  money  I  can  afford  in  your  favour." 

Before  I  left  him  he  had  given  me  several  valuable  hints  as 
to  the  manner  of  managing  that  kind  of  a  horse :  not  to  anger 
him  with  the  spurs  unless  it  became  plain  that  he  meant  to 
kill  me ;  to  try  persuasion  first  and  force  afterwards ;  and  sec- 
ondly, he  taught  me  a  little  trick  of  twisting  the  bit  which  I 
have  since  found  very  useful. 

Leaving  the  White  Horse,  I  was  followed  into  Piccadilly  by 
the  crowd,  until  I  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  a  hackney  chaise. 
The  noise  of  the  affair  had  got  around  town,  and  I  was  heartily 
sorry  I  had  not  taken  the  other  and  better  method  of  trying 
conclusions  with  the  duke,  and  slapped  his  face.  I  found  Jack 
Corny n  in  Dover  Street,  and  presently  Mr.  Fox  came  for  us 
with  his  chestnuts  in  his  chaise,  Fitzpatrick  with  him.  At 
Hyde  Park  Corner  there  was  quite  a  jam  of  coaches,  chaises, 
and  cabriolets  and  beribboned  phaetons,  which  made  way  for 
us,  but  kept  us  busy  bowing  as  we  passed  among  them.  It 
seemed  as  if  everybody  of  consequence  that  I  had  met  in  Lon- 
don was  gathered  there.  One  face  I  missed,  and  rejoiced  that 
she  was  absent,  for  I  had  a  degraded  feeling  like  that  of  being 
the  favourite  in  a  cudgel-bout.  And  the  thought  that  her 
name  was  connected  with  all  this  made  my  face  twitch.  I 
heard  the  people  clapping  and  saw  them  waving  in  the  car- 
riages as  we  passed,  and  some  stood  forward  before  the  rest  in 
a  haphazard  way,  without  rhyme  or  reason.  Mr.  Walpole  with 
Lady  Di  Beauclerk,  and  Mr.  Storer  and  Mr.  Price  and  Colonel 
St.  John,  and  Lord  and  Lady  Carlisle  and  Lady  Ossory.  These 
I  recognized.  Inside,  the  railing  along  the  row  was  lined  with 
people.  And  there  stood  Pollux,  bridled,  with  a  blanket  thrown 
over  his  great  back  and  chest,  surrounded  still  by  the  hunting- 
frocks,  who  had  followed  him  from  the  White  Horse.  Mixed 
in  with  these,  swearing,  conjecturing,  and  betting,  were  some 


THE   SERPENTINE  349 

to  surprise  me,  whose  names  were  connected  with  every  track  in 
England:  the  Duke  of  Grafton  and  my  Lords  Sandwich  and 
March  and  Bolingbroke,  and  Sir  Cliarles  Bunbury,  and  young 
Lords  Derby  and  Foley,  who,  after  establishing  separate  names 
for  folly  on  the  tracks,  went  into  partnership.  My  Lord  Balti- 
more descended  listlessly  from  his  cabriolet  to  join  the  group. 
They  all  sang  out  when  they  caught  sight  of  our  party,  and 
greeted  me  ;vith  a  zeal  to  carry  me  off  my  feet.  And  my  Lord 
Sandwich,  having  done  me  the  honour  to  lay  something  very 
handsome  upon  me,  had  his  chief  jockey  on  hand  to  give  me 
some  final  advice.  I  believe  I  was  the  coolest  of  any  of  them. 
And  at  that  time  of  all  others  the  fact  came  up  to  me  with 
irresistible  humour  that  I,  a  young  colonial  Whig,  who  had 
grown  up  to  detest  these  people,  should  be  rubbing  noses  with 
them. 

The  duke  put  in  an  appearance  five  minutes  before  the  hour, 
upon  a  bay  gelding,  and  attended  by  Lewis  and  Sir  John. 
Brooke,  both  mounted.  As  a  most  particular  evidence  of  the 
detestation  in  which  Chartersea  was  held,  he  could  find  noth- 
ng  in  common  with  such  notorious  rakes  as  March  and  Sand- 
wich. And  it  fell  to  me  to  champion  these.  After  some 
discussion  between  Eox  and  Captain  Lewis,  March  was  chosen 
umpire.  His  Lordship  took  his  post  in  the  middle  of  the  Row, 
drew  forth  an  enamelled  repeater  from  his  waistcoat,  and 
mouthed  out  the  conditions  of  the  match,  —  the  terms,  as  he 
said,  being  private. 

"  Are  you  ready,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I   am,  my  Lord,"    T   answered.     The   bells  were   pealing 
noon. 

"Then  mount,  sir,'   said  ho 

The  voices  of  the  people  dropped  to  a  hum  that  brought  to 
mind  the  long-forgotten  sound  of  the  bees  swarming  in  the 
garden  by  the  Chesapeake.  My  breath  began  to  come  quickly 
Through  the  sunny  haze  I  saw  the  cows  and  deer  grazing  by 
the  Serpentine,  and  out  of  the  back  of  my  eye  handkerchiefs 
floated  from  the  carriages  banked  at  the  gate.  Tliey  took  the 
blanket  off  the  stallion.  Stall-fed,  and  excited  by  the  crowd, 
he  looked  brutal  indeed.     The  faithful  Banks,  in  a  new  suit 


850  RICHARD   CARVEL 

of  the  Carvel  livery,  held  the  stirrup,  and  whispered  a  husky 
"  God  keep  you,  sir ! "  Suddenly  I  was  up.  The  murmur  was 
hushed,  and  the  Park  became  still  as  a  peaceful  farm  in  Dev« 
onshire.     The  grooms  let  go  of  the  stallion's  head. 

He  stood  trembling  like  the  throes  of  death.  I  gripped  my 
knees  as  Captain  Daniel  had  taught  me,  years  ago,  when  some 
invisible  force  impelled  me  to  look  aside.  From  between  the 
broad  and  hunching  shoulders  of  Chartersea  I  met  such  a 
venoinous  stare  as  a  cuttle-fish  might  use  to  freeze  his  prey. 
Cuttle-fish  I  The  word  kept  running  over  my  tongue.  I 
thought  of  the  snaky  arms  that  had  already  caught  Mr.  Mar- 
maduke,  and  were  soon,  perhaps,  to  entangle  Dorothy.  She 
had  begged  me  not  to  ride,  and  I  was  risking  a  life  which 
might  save  hers. 

The  wind  rushing  in  my  ears  and  beating  against  my  face 
awoke  me  all  at  once.  The  trees  ran  madly  past,  and  the 
water  at  my  right  was  a  silver  blur.  The  beast  beneath  me 
snorted  as  he  rose  and  fell.  Fainter  and  fainter  dropped  the 
clamour  behind  me,  wluch  had  risen  as  I  started,  and  the 
leaps  grew  longer  and  longer.  Then  my  head  was  cleared 
like  a  steamed  window-pane  in  a  cold  blast.  I  saw  the  road 
curve  in  front  of  me,  I  put  all  my  strength  into  the  curb,  and 
heeling  at  a  fearful  angle  was  swept  into  the  busy  Kensington 
Road.  For  the  first  time  I  knew  what  it  was  to  fear  a  horse. 
The  stallion's  neck  was  stretched,  his  shoes  rang  on  the  cob- 
bles, and  my  eyes .  were  fixed  on  a  narrow  space  between 
carriages  coming  together.  In  a  flash  I  understood  why  the 
duke  had  insisted  upon  Hyde  Park,  and  that  nerved  me  some. 
I  saw  the  frightened  coachmen  pulling  their  horses  this  way 
and  that,  I  heard  the  cries  of  the  foot-passengers,  and  then  I 
was  through,  I  know  not  how.  Once  more  I  summoned  all  my 
power,  recalled  the  twist  Astley  had  spoken  of,  and  tried  it. 
I  bent  his  neck  for  an  inch  of  rein.  Next  I  got  another  inch, 
ar'd  then  came  a  taste — the  smallest  taste  —  of  mastery  like 
elixir.  The  motion  changed  with  it,  became  rougher,  and  the 
hoof-beats  a  fraction  less  frequent.  He  steered  like  a  ship 
with  sail  reduced.  In  and  out  we  dodged  among  the  wagons, 
and  I  was  beginning  to  think  I  had  him,  when  suddenly,  with- 


THE   SERPENTINE  351 

out  a  move  of  warning,  he  came  down  rigid  with  his  feet 
planted  together,  and  only  a  miracle  and  my  tight  grip  re- 
strained me  from  shooting  over  his  head.  There  he  stood 
shaking  and  snorting,  nor  any  persuasion  would  move  him. 
I  resorted  at  last  to  the  spurs. 

He  was  up  in  the  air  in  an  instant,  and  came  down  across 
the  road.  Again  I  dug  in  to  the  rowels,  and  clung  the  tighter, 
and  this  time  he  landed  with  his  head  to  London.  A  little 
knot  of  people  had  collected  to  watch  me,  and  out  stepped  a 
strapping  fellow  in  the  King's  scarlet,  from  the  Guard's 
House  near  by. 

"  Hold  him,  sir  !  "  he  said,  tipping.  "  Better  dismount,  sir. 
He  means  murder,  y'r  honour." 

"  Keep  clear,  curse  you ! "  I  cried,  waving  him  off.  "  What 
time  is  it  ?  " 

He  stepped  back,  no  doubt  thinking  me  mad.  Some  one 
spoke  up  and  said  it  was  five  minutes  past  noon.  I  had  the 
grace  to  thank  him,  I  believe.  To  my  astonishment  I  had 
been  gone  but  four  minutes ;  they  had  seemed  twenty.  Look- 
ing about  me,  I  found  I  was  in  the  open  space  before  old 
Kensington  Church,  over  against  the  archway  there.  Once 
more  I  dug  in  the  spurs,  this  time  with  success.  Almost  at  a 
jump  the  beast  took  me  into  the  angle  of  posts  to  the  east  of 
the  churchyard  gate  and  tore  up  the  footpath  of  Church  Lane, 
terrified  men  and  women  ahead  of  me  taking  to  the  kennel. 
He  ran  irregularly,  now  on  the  side  of  the  posts,  now  against 
the  bricks,  and  then  I  gave  myself  up. 

Heaven  put  a  last  expedient  into  my  head,  that  I  had  once 
heard  Mr.  Dulany  speak  of.  I  braced  myself  for  a  pull  that 
should  have  broken  the  stallion's  jaw  and  released  his  mouth 
altogether.  Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  he  jarred  into  a  trot, 
and  presently  came  down  to  a  walk,  tossing  his  head  like 
fury,  and  sweating  at  every  pore.  I  leaned  over  and  patted 
him,  speaking  him  fair,  and  (marvel  of  marvels ! )  when  we 
had  got  to  the  dogs  that  guard  the  entrance  of  Camden  House 
I  had  coaxed  him  around  and  into  the  street,  and  cantered 
back  at  easy  speed  to  the  church.  Without  pausing  to  speak 
to  the  bunch  that  stood  at  the  throat  of  the  lane,  I  started 


352  RICHARD   CARVEL 

toward  London,  thankfulness  and  relief  swelling  within  me. 
I  understood  the  beast,  and  spoke  to  him  when  he  danced 
aside  at  a  wagon  with  bells  or  a  rattling  load  of  coals,  and 
checked  him  with  a  word  and  a  light  hand. 

Before  I  gained  the  Life  Guard's  House  I  met  a  dozen  horse- 
men, amongst  them  Banks  on  a  mount  of  Mr.  Fox's.  They 
shouted  when  they  saw  me,  Colonel  St.  John  calling  out  that 
he  had  won  another  hundred  that  I  was  not  dead.  Sir  John 
Brooke  puffed  and  swore  he  did  not  begrudge  his  losses  to  see 
me  safe,  despite  Captain  Lewis's  sourness.  Storer  vowed  he 
would  give  a  dinner  in  my  honour,  and,  riding  up  beside 
me,  whispered  that  he  was  damned  sorry  the  horse  was  now 
broken,  and  his  Grace's  chance  of  being  killed  taken  away. 
And  thus  escorted,  I  came  in  by  the  King's  New  Road  to 
avoid  the  people  running  in  the  Row,  and  so  down  to  Hyde 
Park  Corner,  and  in  among  the  chaises  and  the  phaetons,  where 
there  was  enough  cheering  and  waving  of  hats  and  handker- 
chiefs to  please  the  most  exacting  of  successful  generals.  I 
rode  up  to  my  Lord  March,  and  finding  there  was  a  minute 
yet  to  run  I  went  up  the  Row  a  distance  and  back  again 
amidst  more  huzzaing,  Pollux  prancing  and  quivering,  and 
frothing  his  bit,  but  never  once  attempting  to  break. 

When  I  had  got  down,  they  pressed  around  me  until  I  could 
scarce  breathe,  crying  congratulations,  Comyn  embracing  me 
openly.  Mr.  Fox  vowed  he  had  never  seen  so  fine  a  sight,  and 
said  many  impolitic  things  which  the  duke  must  have  over- 
heard. .  .  .  Lady  Carlisle  sent  me  a  red  rose  for  my  button- 
hole by  his  Lordship.  Mr.  Warner,  the  lively  parson  with 
my  Lord  March,  desired  to  press  my  hand,  declaring  that  he 
had  won  a  dozen  of  port  upon  me,  which  he  had  set  his  best 
cassock  against.  My  Lord  Sandwich  offered  me  snuff,  and  in- 
vited me  to  Hichinbroke.  Indeed,  I  should  never  be  through 
were  I  to  continue.  But  I  must  not  forget  my  old  acquaintance 
Mr.  Walpole,  who  protested  that  he  must  get  permission  to 
present  me  to  Princess  Amelia:  that  her  Royal  Highness 
would  not  rest  content  now,  until  she  had  seen  me.  I  did  not 
then  know  her  Highness's  sporting  propensity. 

Then  my  Lord  March  called  upon  the  duke,  who  stood  in 


THE    SERPENTINE  353 

the  midst  of  an  army  of  his  toadeaters.  I  almost  pitied  him 
then,  tho'  I  could  not  account  for  the  feeling.  I  think  it  was 
because  a  nobleman  with  so  great  a  title  should  be  so  cordially 
hated  and  despised.  There  were  high  words  along  the  railing 
among  the  duke's  supporters,  Captain  Lewis,  in  his  anger,  go- 
ing above  an  inference  that  the  stallion  had  been  broken  pri- 
vately. Chartersea  came  forward  with  an  indifferent  swagger, 
as  if  to  say  as  much :  and,  in  truth,  no  one  looked  for  more 
sport,  and  some  were  even  turning  away.  He  had  scarce  put 
foot  to  the  stirrup,  when  the  surprise  came.  Two  minutes 
were  up  before  he  was  got  in  the  saddle,  Pollux  rearing  and 
plunging  and  dancing  in  a  circle,  the  grooms  shouting  and 
dodging,  and  his  Grace  cursing  in  a  voice  to  wake  the  dead : 
and  Mr.  Fox  laughing,  and  making  small  wagers  that  he  would 
never  be  mounted.  Put  at  last  the  duke  was  up  and  gripped, 
his  face  bloody  red,  giving  vent  to  his  fury  with  the  spurs. 

Then  something  happened,  and  so  quickly  that  it  cannot  be 
writ  fast  enough.  Pollux  bolted  like  a  shot  out  of  a  sling, 
vaulted  the  railing  as  easily  as  you  or  I  would  hop  over  a  stick, 
and  galloping  across  the  lawn  and  down  the  embankment  flung 
his  Grace  into  the  Serpentine.  Precisely,  as  Mr.  Fox  after 
wards  remarked,  as  the  swine  with  the  evil  spirits  ran  dowL 
the  slope  into  the  sea. 

An  indescribable  bedlam  of  confusion  followed,  lords  and 
gentlemen,  tradesmen  and  grooms,  hostlers  and  apprentices,  all 
tumbling  after,  many  crying  with  laughter.  My  Lord  Sand- 
wich's jockey  pulled  his  Grace  from  the  water  in  a  most  piti- 
able state  of  rage  and  humiliation.  His  side  curls  gone,  the 
powder  and  pomatum  washed  from  his  hair,  bedraggled  and 
muddy  and  sputtering  oaths,  he  made  his  way  to  Lord  March, 
swearing  by  all  divine  that  a  trick  was  put  on  him,  that  he 
would  ride  the  stallion  to  Land's  End.  His  Lordship,  pulling 
his  face  straight,  gravely  informed  the  duke  that  the  match 
was  over.  With  this  his  Grace  fell  flatly  sullen,  was  pushed 
into  a  coach  by  Sir  John  and  the  captain,  and  drove  rapidly 
off  Kensington  way,  to  avoid  the  people  at  the  corner. 

2a 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

IN   WHICH    I    AM   ROUNDLY    BROUGHT   TO   TASK 

I  WOULD  have  gone  to  Arlington  Street  direct,  but  ray  friends 
had  no  notion  of  letting  me  escape.  They  carried  me  off  to 
Brooks's  Club,  where  a  bowl  of  punch  was  brewed  directly, 
and  my  health  was  drunk  to  three  times  three.  Mr.  Storer 
commanded  a  turtle  dinner  in  my  honour.  We  were  not 
many,  fortunately,  —  only  Mr.  Fox's  little  coterie.  And  it 
was  none  other  than  Mr.  Fox  who  made  the  speech  of  the 
evening.  "  May  I  be  strung  as  high  as  Haman,"  said  he,  amid 
a  tempest  of  laughter,  "  if  ever  I  saw  half  so  edifying  a  sight 
as  his  Grace  pitching  into  the  Serpentine,  unless  it  were  his 
Grace  dragged  out  again.  Mr.  Carvel's  advent  has  been  a 
Godsend  to  us  narrow  ignoramuses  of  this  island,  gentlemen. 
To  the  Englishmen  of  our  colonies,  sirs,  and  that  we  may 
never  underrate  or  misunderstand  them  more !  " 

"Nay,  Charles,"  cried  my  Lord  Comyn.  "Where  is  our 
gallantry  ?  I  give  you  first  the  Englishwomen  of  our  colonies, 
and  in  particular  the  pride  of  Maryland,  who  has  brought  back 
to  the  old  country  all  the  graces  of  the  new,  —  Miss  Manners." 

His  voice  was  drowned  by  a  deafening  shout,  and  we  charged 
our  glasses  to  drain  them  brimming.  And  then  we  all  went  to 
Drury  Lane  to  see  Mrs.  Clive  romp  through  Tlie  Wonder  in 
the  spirit  of  the  "immortal  Peg."  She  spoke  an  epilogue  that 
Mr.  Walpole  had  writ  especial  for  her,  and  made  some  witty 
and  sarcastic  remarks  directed  at  the  gentlemen  in  our  stage- 
box.  We  topped  off  a  very  full  day  by  a  supper  at  the  Bed- 
ford Arms,  where  I  must  draw  the  curtain. 

The  next  morning  I  was  abed  at  an  hour  which  the  sobriety 
of  old  age  makes  me  blush  to  think  of.     Banks  had  just  con- 

354 


I  AM   EOUNDLY   BROUGHT  TO   TASK        355 

eluded  a  discreet  discourse  upon  my  accomplisliment  of  the 
day  before,  and  had  left  for  my  newspapers,  when  be  came 
running  back  with  the  information  that  Miss  Manners  would 
see  my  honour  that  day.  There  was  no  note.  Between  us  we 
made  my  toilet  in  a  jiffy,  and  presently  I  was  walking  in  at 
the  Manners's  door  in  an  amazing  hurry,  and  scarcely  waited 
for  a  direction.  But  as  I  ran  up  the  stairs,  I  heard  the  tinkle 
of  the  spinet,  and  the  notes  of  an  old,  familiar  tune  fell  upon 
my  ears.     The  words  rose  in  my  head  with  the  cadence. 

•'  Love  me  little,  love  me  long, 
Is  the  burthen  of  my  song, 
Love  that  is  too  hot  and  strong 
Runneth  soon  to  waste." 

That  simple  air,  already  mellowed  by  an  hundred  years,  had 
always  been  her  favourite.  She  used  to  sing  it  softly  to  her- 
self as  we  roamed  the  woods  and  fields  of  the  Eastern  Shore. 
Instinctively  I  paused  at  the  dressing-room  door.  Nay,  my 
iears,  you  need  not  cry  out,  such  was  the  custom  of  the  times. 
A  dainty  bower  it  was,  filled  with  the  perfume  of  flowers,  and 
jcosy  cupids  disporting  on  the  ceiling;  and  china  and  silver  and 
^old  filigree  strewn  about,  with  my  tea-cups  on  the  table.  The 
sunlight  fell  like  a  halo  round  Dorothy's  head,  her  hands 
strayed  over  the  keys,  and  her  eyes  were  far  away.  She  had 
not  heard  me.  I  remember  her  dress,  —  a  silk  with  blue  corn- 
flowers on  a  light  ground,  and  the  flimsiest  of  lace  caps  resting 
on  her  hair.  I  thought  her  face  paler ;  but  beyond  that  she 
did  not  show  her  illness. 

She  looked  up,  and  perceived  me,  I  thought,  with  a  start. 
"So  it  is  you!"  she  said  demurely  enough;  "you  are  come  at 
last  to  give  an  account  of  yourself." 

"  Are  you  better,  Dorothy  ?  "  I  asked  earnestly. 

"  Why  should  you  think  that  I  have  been  ill  ?  "  she  replied, 
her  fingers  going  back  to  the  spinet.  "It  is  a  mistake,  sir. 
Dr.  James  has  given  me  near  a  gross  of  his  infamous  powders, 
and  is  now  exploiting  another  cure.  I  have  been  resting  from 
the  fatigues  of  London,  while  you  have  been  wearing  yourself 
out" 


356  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Dr.  James  himself  told  me  your  condition  was  serious,"  1 
said. 

"Of  course,"  said  she;  "the  worse  the  disease,  the  more 
remarkable  the  cure,  the  more  sought  after  the  physician. 
When  will  you  get  over  your  provincial  simplicity  ?  " 

I  saw  there  was  nothing  to  be  got  out  of  her  while  in  this 
baffling  humour.  I  wondered  what  devil  impelled  a  woman  to 
write  one  way  and  talk  another.  In  her  note  to  me  she  had 
confessed  her  illness.  The  words  I  had  formed  to  say  to  her 
were  tied  on  my  tongue.  But  on  the  whole  I  congratulated 
myself.  She  knew  how  to  step  better  than  I,  and  there  were 
many  awkward  things  between  us  of  late  best  not  spoken  of. 
But  she  kept  me  standing  an  unconscionable  time  without  a 
word,  which  on  the  whole  was  cruelty,  while  she  played  over 
some  of  Dibdin's  ballads. 

"  Are  you  in  a  hurry,  sir,"  she  asked  at  length,  turning  on 
me  with  a  smile,  "are  you  in  a  hurry  to  join  my  Lord  March 
or  his  Grace  of  Grafton  ?  And  have  you  writ  Captain  Clap- 
saddle  and  your  Whig  friends  at  home  of  your  new  intimacies, 
of  Mr.  Fox  and  my  Lord  Sandwich  ?  " 

I  was  dumb. 

"Yes,  you  must  be  wishing  to  get  away,"  she  continued 
cruelly,  picking  up  the  newspaper.  "I  had  forgotten  this 
notice.  When  I  saw  it  this  morning  I  thought  of  you,  and 
despaired  of  a  glimpse  of  you  to-day."  (Reading.)  "  '  At  the 
Three  Hats,  Islington,  this  day,  the  10th  of  May,  will  be 
played  a  grand  match  at  that  ancient  and  much  renowned 
manly  diversion  called  Double  Stick  by  a  sett  of  chosen  young 
men  at  that  exercise  from  different  parts  of  the  West  Country, 
for  tAVO  guineas  given  free ;  those  who  break  the  most  heads 
to  bear  away  the  prize.  Before  the  above-mentioned  diversion 
begins,  Mr.  Sampson  and  his  young  German  will  display  al- 
ternately on  one,  two,  and  three  horses,  various  surprising 
and  curious  feats  of  famous  horsemanship  in  like  manner  as 
at  the  Grand  Jubilee  at  Stratford-upon-Avon.  Admittance  one 
shilling  each  person.'  Before  you  leave,  Mr.  Richard,"  she 
continued,  with  her  eyes  still  on  the  sheet,  "  I  should  like  to 
talk  over  one  or  two  little  matters." 


I  AM  EOUNDLY   BROUGHT   TO  TASK        357 

"Dolly  —  !" 

"  Will  you  sit,  sir  ?  " 

I  sat  down  uneasily,  expecting  the  worst.  She  disappointed 
me,  as  usual. 

"What  an  unspeakable  place  must  you  keep  in  Dover 
Street !  I  cannot  send  even  a  footman  there  but  what  he  comes 
back  reeling." 

I  had  to  laugh  at  this.  But  there  was  no  smile  out  of  my 
lady. 

"  It  took  me  near  an  hour  and  a  half  to  answer  your  note," 
I  replied. 

"  And  'twas  a  masterpiece !  "  exclaimed  Dolly,  with  wither- 
ing sarcasm ;  "  oh,  a  most  amazing  masterpiece,  I'll  be  bound ! 
His  worship  the  French  Ambassador  is  a  kitten  at  diplomacy 
beside  you,  sir.  An  hour  and  a  half,  did  you  say,  sir? 
Gemini,  the  Secretary  of  State  and  his  whole  corps  could  not 
have  composed  the  like  in  a  day." 

"  Faith ! "  I  cried,  with  feeling  enough ;  "  and  if  that  is 
diplomacy,  I  would  rather  make  leather  breeches  than  be  given 
an  embassy." 

She  fixed  her  eyes  upon  me  so  disconcertingly  that  mine  fell. 

"  There  was  a  time,"  she  said,  with  a  change  of  tone,  "  there 
was  a  time  when  a  request  of  mine,  and  it  were  not  granted 
outright,  would  have  received  some  attention.  This  is  my 
first  experience  at  being  ignored." 

"  I  had  made  a  wager,"  said  I,  "  and  could  not  retract  with 
honour." 

''  So  you  had  made  a  wager !  Now  we  are  to  have  some  news 
at  last.  How  stupid  of  you,  Richard,  not  to  tell  me  before.  I 
confess  I  wonder  what  these  wits  find  in  your  company.  Here 
am  I  who  have  seen  naught  but  dull  women  for  a  fortnight,  and 
you  have  failed  to  say  anything  amusing  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour.     Let  us  hear  about  the  wager.'' 

"There  is  little  to  tell,"  I  answered  shortly,  considerably 
piqued.  "  I  bet  your  friend,  the  Duke  of  Chartersea,  some 
hundreds  of  pounds  I  could  ride  Lord  Baltimore's  Pollux  for 
twenty  minutes,  after  which  his  Grace  was  to  get  on  and  ride 
twenty  more." 


358  KICHARD  CAEVEL 

"  Where  did  you  see  the  duke  ?  "  Dolly  interrupted,  without 
much  show  of  interest. 

I  explained  how  we  had  met  him  at  Brooks's,  and  had  gone 
to  his  house. 

"You  went  to  his  house?"  she  repeated,  raising  her  eye- 
brows a  trifle ;  "  and  Comyn  and  Mr.  Fox  ?  And  pray,  how 
did  this  pretty  subject  come  up  ?  " 

I  related,  very  badly,  I  fear,  Fox's  story  of  young  Wrot- 
tlesey  and  the  tea-merchant's  daughter.  And  what  does  my 
lady  do  but  get  up  and  turn  her  back,  arranging  some  pinks  in 
the  window.  I  could  have  sworn  she  was  laughing,  had  I  not 
known  better. 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  that  was  a  reference  to  a  little  pleasantry  Mr.  Fox 
had  put  up  on  him  some  time  before.  His  Grace  flared,  but 
tried  not  to  show  it.  He  said  he  had  heard  I  could  do  some- 
thing with  a  horse  (I  believe  he  made  it  up),  and  Comyn  gave 
oath  that  I  could;  and  then  he  offered  to  bet  Comyn  that  I 
could  not  ride  this  Pollux,  who  had  killed  his  groom.  That 
made  me  angry,  and  I  told  the  duke  I  was  no  jockey  to  be  put 
up  to  decide  wagers,  and  that  he  must  make  his  offers  to  me." 

"  La  ! "  said  Dolly,  "  you  fell  in  head  over  heels." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"Nothing,"  said  she,  biting  her  lip.  "Come,  you  are  as 
ponderous  as  Dr.  Johnson." 

"Then  Mr.  Fox  proposed  that  his  Grace  should  ride  after 
me." 

Here  Dolly  laughed  in  her  handkerchief. 

"  I'll  be  bound,"  said  she. 

"  Then  the  duke  went  to  York,"  I  continued  hurriedly ; 
"  and  when  he  came  back  we  met  him  at  the  Star  and  Garter. 
He  insisted  that  the  match  should  come  off  in  Hyde  Park.  I 
should  have  preferred  the  open  roads  north  of  Bedford  House.'* 

"  Where  there  is  no  Serpentine,"  she  interrupted,  with  the 
faintest  suspicion  of  a  twinkle  about  her  eyes.  "  On,  sir,  on ! 
You  are  as  reluctant  as  our  pump  at  Wilmot  House  in  the  dry 
season.  I  see  you  were  not  killed,  as  you  richly  deserved. 
Let  us  have  the  rest  of  your  tale." 


I   AM   ROUNDLY   BROUGHT   TO   TASK        369 

"There  is  very  little  more  to  it,  save  that  I  contrived  to 
master  the  beast,  and  his  Grace  — " 

"Was  disgraced.  A  vastly  fine  achievement,  surely.  But 
where  are  you  to  stop  ?  You  will  be  shaming  the  King  next 
by  outwalking  him.  Pray,  how  did  the  duke  appear  as  he  was 
going  into  the  Serpentine  ?  " 

"  You  have  heard  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  the  trick  she  had  played 
me  dawning  upon  me. 

"Upon  my  Avord,  Richard,  you  are  more  of  a  simpleton  than 
I  thought  you.  Have  you  not  seen  your  newspaper  this  morn- 
ing?" 

I  explained  how  it  was  that  I  had  not.  She  took  up  the 
Chronicle. 

"'This  Mr.  Carvel  has  made  no  inconsiderable  noise  since 
his  arrival  in  town,  and  yesterday  crowned  his  performances 
by  defeating  publicly  a  noble  duke  at  a  riding  match  in  Hyde 
Park,  before  half  the  quality  of  the  kingdom.  His  Lordship 
of  March  and  Ruglen  acted  as  umpire.'  There,  sir,  was  I  not 
right  to  beg  Sir  John  Fielding  to  put  you  in  safe  keeping  until 
your  grandfather  can  send  for  you  ?  " 

I  made  to  seize  the  paper,  but  she  held  it  from  me. 

"'If  Mr.  Carvel  remains  long  enough  in  England,  he  bids 
fair  to  share  the  talk  of  Mayfair  with  a  certain  honourable 
young  gentleman  of  Brooks's  and  the  Admiralty,  whose  debts 
and  doings  now  furnish  most  of  the  gossip  for  the  clubs  and 
the  card  tables.  Their  names  are  both  connected  with  this 
contest.  'Tis  whispered  that  the  wager  upon  which  the  match 
was  ridden  arose  — ' "  here  Dolly  stopped  shortly,  her  colour 
mounting,  and  cried  out  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot.  "  You  are 
not  content  to  bring  publicity  upon  yourself,  who  deserve  it, 
but  must  needs  drag  innocent  names  into  the  newspapers." 

"  What  have  they  said  ?  "  I  demanded,  ready  to  roll  every 
printer  in  London  in  the  kennel. 

"Nay,  you  may  read  for  yourself,"  said  she.  -And,  flinging 
the  paper,  in  my  lap,  left  the  room. 

They  had  not  said  much  more,  Heaven  be  praised.  But  I 
was  angry  and  mortified  as  I  had  never  been  before,  realizing 
for  the  first  time  what  a  botch  I  had  made  of  my  stay  in  Lou* 


360  RICHARD  CARVEL 

don.  In  great  dejection,  I  was  picking  up  my  hat  to  leave  thfe 
house,  when  Mrs.  Manners  came  in  upon  me,  and  insisted  that 
I  should  stay  for  dinner.  She  was  very  white,  and  seemed 
troubled  and  preoccupied,  and  said  that  Mr.  Manners  had  come 
back  from  York  with  a  cold  on  his  chest,  but  would  insist  upon 
joining  the  party  to  Vauxhall  on  Monday.  I  asked  her  when 
she  was  going  to  the  baths,  and  suggested  that  the  change 
would  do  her  good.     Indeed,  she  looked  badly. 

"We  are  not  going,  Richard,"  she  replied;  "Dorothy  will 
not  hear  of  it.  In  spite  of  the  doctor  she  says  she  is  not  ill, 
and  must  attend  at  Vauxhail,  too.     You  are  asked  ?  " 

I  said  that  Mr.  Storer  had  included  me.  I  am  sure,  from 
the  way  she  looked  at  me,  that  she  did  not  heed  my  answer. 
She  appeared  to  hesitate  on  the  verge  of  a  speech,  and  glanced 
once  or  twice  at  the  doors. 

"  Richard,  I  suppose  you  are  old  enough  to  take  care  of  your 
self,  tho'  you  seem  still  a  child  to  me.  I  pray  you  will  be  care- 
ful, my  boy,"  she  said,  with  something  of  the  affection  she  had 
always  borne  me,  "  for  your  grandfather's  sake,  I  pray  you  will 
run  into  no  more  danger.  I  —  we  are  your  old  friends,  and 
the  only  ones  here  to  advise  you." 

She  stopped,  seemingly,  to  weigh  the  wisdom  of  what  Avas 
to  come  next,  while  I  leaned  forward  with  an  eagerness  I 
could  not  hide.  Was  she  to  speak  of  the  Duke  of  Charter- 
sea  ?  Alas,  I  was  not  tr  know.  For  at  that  moment  Dorothy 
came  back  to  inquire  why  I  was  not  gone  to  the  cudgelling 
at  the  Three  Hats.  I  said  I  had  been  invited  to  stay  to 
dinner. 

"  Why,  I  have  writ  a  note  asking  Comyn,"  said  she,  "  Do 
you  think  the  house  will  hold  you  both  ?  " 

His  Lordship  came  in  as  we  were  sitting  down,  bursting 
with  some  news,  and  he  could  hardly  wait  to  congratulate 
Dolly  on  her  recovery  before  he  delivered  it. 

"Why,  Richard,"  says  the  dog,  "what  do  you  think  some 
wag  has  done  now  ?  They  believe  at  Brooks's  'twas  that  jack- 
anapes of  a  parson,  Dr.  Warner,  who  was  there  yesterday  with 
March,"  He  drew  a  clipping  from  his  pocket.  "Listen, 
Miss  Dolly:  — 


I  AM  ROUNDLY  BROUGHT  TO  TASK    361 

«' '  On  Wednesday  did  a  carter  see 
His  Grace,  the  Duke  of  Ch-rt— s-a, 
As  plump  and  helpless  as  a  bag, 
A-straddle  of  a  big-boned  nag. 
"  Lord,  Sam  !  "  the  carter  loudly  yelled, 
On  by  this  wondrous  sight  impelled, 
"  We'll  run  and  watch  this  noble  gander 
Master  a  steed,  like  Alexander." 
But,  when  the  carter  reached  the  Row, 
His  Grace  had  left  it,  long  ago. 
Bucephalus  had  leaped  the  green. 
The  duke  was  hi  '.l.e  Serpentine. 
The  fervent  wish  of  all  good  men 
That  he  may  ne'er  come  out  again  ! ' " 

Comyn's  impudence  took  my  breath,  tho'  the  experiment 
interested  me  not  a  little.  My  lady  was  pleased  to  laugh  at 
the  doggerel,  and  even  Mrs.  Manners.  Its  effect  upon  Mr. 
Marmaduke  was  not  so  spontaneous.  His  smile  was  half- 
hearted. Indeed,  the  little  gentleman  seemed  to  have  lost  his 
spirits,  and  said  so  little  (for  him),  that  I  was  encouraged  to 
corner  him  that  very  evening  and  force  him  to  a  confession. 
But  I  might  have  known  he  was  not  to  be  caught.  It  appeared 
almost  as  if  he  guessed  my  purpose,  for  as  soon  as  ever  the 
claret  was  come  on,  he  excused  himself,  saying  he  was  promised 
to  Lady  Harrington,  who  wanted  one. 

Comyn  and  I  departed  early  on  account  of  Dorothy.  She 
had  denied  a  dozen  who  had  left  cards  upon  her. 

"  Egad,  Richard,"  said  my  Lord,  when  we  had  got  to  my 
lodgings,  "  I  made  him  change  colour,  did  I  not  ?  Do  you 
know  how  the  little  fool  looks  to  me  ?  'Od's  life,  he  looks 
hunted,  and  cursed  near  brought  to  earth.  We  must  fetch  this 
thing  to  a  point,  Richard.  And  I  am  wondering  what  Charter- 
sea's  next  move  will  be,"  he  added  thoughtfully. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

HOLLAND    HOUSE 

On  the  morrow,  as  I  was  setting  out  to  dine  at  Brooks's,  1 
received  the  following  on  a  torn  slip  of  paper :  "  Dear  Eichard, 
we  shall  have  a  good  show  to-day  you  may  care  to  see."  It 
was  signed  'Tox,"  and  dated  at  St.  Stephen's.  I  lost  no 
time  in  riding  to  Westminster,  where  I  found  a  flock  of  ex- 
cited people  in  Parliament  Street  and  in  the  Palace  Yard. 
And  on  climbing  the  wide  stone  steps  outside  and  a  narrowei' 
flight  within  I  was  admitted  directly  into  the  august  presence 
of  the  representatives  of  the  English  people.  They  were  in  a 
most  prodigious  and  unseemly  state  of  uproar. 

What  a  place  is  old  St.  Stephen's  Chapel,  over  St. 
Mary's  in  the  Vaults,  for  the  great  Commons  of  England  to 
gather !  It  is  scarce  larger  or  more  imposing  than  our  own 
assembly  room  in  the  Stadt  House  in  Annapolis.  St. 
Stephen's  measures  but  ten  yards  by  thirty,  with  a  narrow 
gallery  running  along  each  side  for  visitors.  In  one  of  these, 
by  the  rail,  I  sat  down  suffocated,  bewildered,  and-  deafened. 
And  my  first  impression  out  of  the  confusion  was  of  the 
bewigged  speaker  enthroned  under  the  royal  arms,  sore  put  to 
restore  order.  On  the  table  in  front  of  him  lay  the  great 
mace  of  the  Restoration.  Three  chandeliers  threw  down 
their  light  upon  the  mob  of  honourable  members,  and  I  won- 
dered what  had  put  them  into  this  state  of  uproar. 

Presently,  with  the  help  of  a  kind  stranger  on  my  right, 
who  was  occasionally  making  shorthand  notes,  I  got  a  few 
bearings.  That  was  the  Treasury  Bench,  where  Lord  Korth 
sat  (he  was  wide  awake,  now).  And  there  was  the  Govern- 
ment side.     He  pointed  out  Barrington  and  Weymouth  and 

362 


HOLLAND   HOUSE  363 

Jerry  Dyson  and  Sandwich,  and  Rigby  in  the  court  suit  of 
purple  velvet  with  the  sword  thrust  through  the  pocket.  I 
took  them  all  in,  as  some  of  the  worst  enemies  my  country  had 
in  Britain.  Then  my  informant  seemed  to  hesitate,  and  made 
bold  to  ask  my  persuasion.  When  I  told  him  I  was  a  Whig, 
and  an  American,  he  begged  the  favour  of  my  hand. 

"  There,  sir,"  he  cried  excitedly,  "  that  stout  young  gentle- 
man with  the  black  face  and  eyebrows,  and  the  blacker  heart, 
I  may  say,  —  the  one  dressed  in  the  fantastical  costume  called 
by  a  French  name,  —  is  Mr.  Charles  Fox.  He  has  been  sent 
by  the  devil  himself,  I  believe,  to  ruin  this  country.  'Ods, 
sir,  that  devil  Lord  Holland  begot  him.  •  He  is  but  one  and 
twenty,  but  his  detestable  arts  have  saved  North's  neck  from 
Burke  and  Wedderburn  on  two  occasions  this  year." 

"  And  what  has  happened  to-day  ?  "  I  asked,  smiling. 

The  stranger  smiled,  too. 

"  Why,  sir,"  he  answered,  raising  his  voice  above  the  noise ; 
"  if  you  have  been  in  London  any  length  of  time,  you  will  have 
read  the  account,  with  comment,  of  the  Duke  of  Grafton's 
speech  in  the  Lords,  signed  Domitian.  Their  Lordships  well 
know  it  should  have  been  over  a  greater  signature.  This  after- 
noon his  Grace  of  Manchester  was  talking  in  the  Upper  House 
about  the  Spanish  troubles,  when  Lord  Gower  arose  and  desired 
that  the  place  might  be  cleared  of  strangers,  lest  some  Cas- 
tilian  spy  might  lurk  under  the  gallery.  That  was  directed 
against  us  of  the  press,  sir,  and  their  Lordships  knew  it. 
'Ad's  heart,  sir,  there  was  a  riot,  the  house  servants  tumbling 
everybody  out,  and  Mr.  Burke  and  Mr.  Dunning  in  the  boot, 
who  were  gone  there  on  the  business  of  this  house  to  present 
a  bill.  Those  gentlemen  are  but  just  back,  calling  upon  the 
commons  to  revenge  them  and  vindicate  their  honour.  And 
my  Lord  North  looks  troubled,  as  you  will  mark,  for  the  mat- 
ter is  like  to  go  hard  against  his  Majesty's  friends.  But  hush, 
Mr.  Burke  is  to  speak." 

The  house  fell  quiet  to  listen,  and  my  friend  began  to  ply 
his  shorthand  industriously.  I  leaned  forward  with  a  sharp 
curiosity  to  see  this  great  friend  of  America.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  well-worn  suit  of  brown,  and  I  recall  a  decided  Irish  face. 


364  RICHARD   CARVEL 

and  a  more  decided  Irish  accent,  which  presently  I  forgot 
under  the  spell  of  his  eloquence.  I  have  heard  it  said  he  had 
many  defects  of  delivery.  He  had  none  that  day,  or  else  I 
was  too  little  experienced  to  note  them.  Afire  with  indigna- 
tion, he  told  how  the  deputy  black  rod  had  hustled  him  like  a 
vagabond  or  a  thief,  and  he  called  the  House  of  Lords  a  bear 
garden.  He  was  followed  by  Dunning,  in  a  still  more  inflam- 
matory mood,  until  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  King's  friends  in 
the  Lower  House  must  desert  their  confederates  in  the  Upper. 
No  less  important  a  retainer  than  Mr.  Onslow  moved  a  policy 
of  retaliation,  and  those  that  were  left  began  to  act  like  the 
Egyptians  when  they  felt  the  Red  Sea  under  them.  They 
nodded  and  whispered  in  their  consternation. 

It  was  theii  that  Mr.  Eox  got  calmly  up  before  the  pack  of 
frightened  mercenaries  and  argued  (God  save  the  mark !)  for 
moderation.  He  had  the  ear  of  the  house  in  a  second,  and  he 
spoke  with  all  the  confidence  —  this  youngster  who  had  just 
reached  his  majority  —  he  had  used  with  me  before  his  inti- 
mates. I  gaped  with  astonishment  and  admiration.  The 
Lords,  said  he,  had  plainly  meant  no  insult  to  this  honourable 
house,  nor  yet  to  the  honourable  members.  They  had  aimed 
at  the  common  enemies  of  man,  the  printers.  And  for  this 
their  heat  was  more  than  pardonable.  My  friend  at  my  side 
stopped  his  writing  to  swear  under  his  breath.  "Look  at 
'em !  "  he  cried ;  "  they  are  turning  already.  He  could  argue 
Swedeuborg  into  popery  !  " 

The  deserters  were  coming  back  to  the  ranks,  indeed,  and 
North  and  Dyson  and  Weymouth  had  ceased  to  look  haggard, 
and  were  wreathed  in  smiles.  In  vain  did  Mr.  Burke 
harangue  them  in  polished  phrase.  It  was  a  language  North 
and  Company  did  not  understand,  and  cared  not  to  learn. 
Their  young  champion  spoke  the  more  worldly  and  cynical 
tongue  of  White's  and  Brooks's,  with  its  shorter  sentences 
and  absence  of  formality.  And  even  as  the  devil  can  quote 
Scripture  to  his  purpose,  Mr.  Fox  quoted  history  and  the 
classics,  with  plenty  more  that  was  not  above  the  heads  of  the 
booted  and  spurred  country  squires.  And  thus,  for  the  third 
time,  he  earned  the  gratitude  of  his  gracious  Majesty, 


HOLLAND   HOUSE  365 

"  Well,  Richard,"  said  he,  slipping  his  arm  through  mine  as 
we  came  out  into  Parliament  Street,  "I  promised  you  some 
sport.     Have  you  enjoyed  it  ?  " 

I  was  forced  to  admit  that  I  had. 

"Let  us  to  the  'Thatched  House,'  and  have  supper  pri- 
vately," he  suggested.  "  I  do  not  feel  like  a  company  to-night." 
We  walked  on  for  some  time  in  silence.  Presently  he  said : 
"  You  must  not  leave  us,  Richard.  You  may  go  home  to  see 
your  grandfather  die,  and  when  you  come  back  I  will  see  about 
getting  you  a  little  borough  for  what  my  father  paid  for  mine. 
And  you  shall  marry  Dorothy,  and  perchance  return  in  ten 
years  as  governor  of  a  principality.  That  is,  after  we've 
ruined  you  at  the  club.     How  does  that  prospect  sit  ?  " 

I  wondered  at  the  mood  he  was  in,  that  made  him  choose 
me  rather  than  the  adulation  and  applause  he  was  sure  to 
receive  at  Brooks's  for  the  part  he  had  played  that  night. 
After  we  had  satisfied  our  hunger,  —  for  neither  of  us  had 
dined,  —  and  poured  out  a  bottle  of  claret,  he  looked  up  at  me 
quizzically. 

"  I  have  not  heard  you  congratulate  me,"  he  said. 

"  Nor  will  you,"  I  replied,  laughing. 

"  I  like  you  the  better  for  it,  Richard.  'Twas  a  damned  poor 
performance,  and  that's  truth." 

"  I  thought  the  performance  remarkable,"  I  said  honestly. 

"  Oh,  but  it  was  not,"  he  answered  scornfully.  "  The 
moment  that  dun-coloured  Irishman  gets  up,  the  Avhole  gov- 
ernment pack  begins  to  whine  and  shiver.  There  are  men  I 
Went  to  school  with  I  fear  more  than  Burke.  But  you  don't 
like  to  see  the  champion  of  America  come  off  second  best. 
Is  that  what  you're  thinking  ?  " 

"No.  But  I  was  wondering  why  you  have  devoted  your 
talents  to  the  devil,"  I  said,  amazed  at  my  boldness. 

He  glanced  at  me,  and  half  laughed  again. 

"  You  are  cursed  frank,"  said  he ;  "  damned  frank." 

"  But  you  invited  it." 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  so  I  did.  Give  me  a  man  who  is  hon- 
est. Fill  up  again,"  said  he;  "and  spit  out  all  you  would 
like  to  say,  Richard." 


366  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Then,"  said  I,  "why  do  you  waste  your  time  and  your 
breath  in  defending  a  crew  of  political  brigands  and  placemen, 
and  a  king  who  knows  not  the  meaning  of  the  word  gratitude, 
and  Y/ho  has  no  use  for  a  man  of  ability  ?  You  have  honoured 
me  with  your  friendship,  Charles  Fox,  and  I  may  take  the  lib- 
erty to  add  that  you  seem  to  love  power  more  than  spoils. 
You  have  originality.  You  are  honest  enough  to  think  and 
act  upon  your  own  impulses.  And  pardon  me  if  I  say  you 
have  very  little  chance  on  that  side  of  the  house  where  you 
have  put  yourself." 

"You  seem  to  have  picked  up  a  trifle  since  you  came  into 
England,"  he  said.  "  A  damned  shrewd  estimate,  I'll  be  sworn. 
And  for  a  colonial !  But,  as  for  power,"  he  added  a  little  dog- 
gedly, "  I  have  it  in  plenty,  and  the  kind  I  like.  The  King 
and  North  hate  and  fear  me  already  more  than  Wilkes." 

"And  with  more  cause,"  I  replied  warmly.  "His  Majesty 
perhaps  knows  that  you  understand  him  better,  and  foresees 
the  time  when  a  man  of  your  character  will  give  him  cause  to 
fear  indeed." 

He  did  not  answer  that,  but  called  for  a  reckoning;  and 
taking  my  arm  again,  we  walked  out  past  the  sleeping  houses. 

"Have  you  ever  thought  much  of  the  men  we  have  in  the 
colonies  ?  "  I  asked. 

"No,"  he  replied;  "Chatham  stands  for  'em,  and  I  hate 
Chatham  on  my  father's  account.  That  is  reason  enough  for 
me." 

"  You  should  come  back  to  America  with  me,"  I  said.  "  And 
when  you  had  rested  awhile  at  Carvel  Hall,  I  would  ride  with 
you  through  the  length  of  the  provinces  from  Massachusetts 
to  North  Carolina.  You  will  see  little  besides  hard-working, 
self-respecting  Englishmen,  loyal  to  a  king  who  deserves  loy- 
alty as  little  as  Louis  of  France.  But  with  their  eyes  open, 
and  despite  the  course  he  has  taken.  They  are  men  whose 
measure  of  resolution  is  not  guessed  at." 

He  was  silent  again  until  we  had  got  into  Piccadilly  and 
opposite  his  lodgings. 

"  Are  they  all  like  you  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Who  ?  "  said  I.     For  I  had  forgotten  my  words. 


HOLLAND   HOUSE  367 

•^The  Americans." 

"The  greater  part  feel  as  I  do." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  for  bed,"  he  remarked  abruptly. 

"The  night  is  not  yet  begun,"  I  answered,  repeating  his 
Tavourite  words,  and  pointing  at  the  glint  of  the  sun  on  the 
windows. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  a  drive  behind  those  chestnuts  of  mine, 
for  a  breath  of  air  ?  I  have  just  got  my  new  cabriolet  Selwyn 
ordered  in  Paris." 

Soon  we  were  rattling  over  the  stones  in  Piccadilly,  wrapped 
in  greatcoats,  for  the  morning  wind  was  cold.  We  saw  the 
Earl  of  March  and  Rugleu  getting  out  of  a  chair  before  his 
house,  opposite  the  Green  Park,  and  he  stopped  swearing  at 
the  chairmen  to  wave  at  us. 

"Hello,  March!"  Mr.  Fox  said  affably,  "you're  drunk." 

His  Lordship  smiled,  bowed  graciously  if  unsteadily  to  me, 
and  did  not  appear  to  resent  the  pleasantry.     Then  he  sighed. 

"  What  a  pair  of  cubs  it  is,"  said  he ;  "  I  wish  to  God  I  was 
young  again.  I  hear  you  astonished  the  world  again  last  night, 
Charles." 

We  left  him  being  assisted  into  his  residence  by  a  sleepy 
footman,  paid  our  toll  at  Hyde  Park  Corner,  and  rolled  on- 
ward toward  Kensington,  Fox  laughing  as  we  passed  the  empty 
park  at  the  thought  of  what  had  so  lately  occurred  there.  After 
the  close  night  of  St.  Stephen's,  nature  seemed  doubly  beauti- 
ful. The  sun  slanted  over  the  water  in  the  gardens  in  bars  of 
green  and  gold.  The  bright  new  leaves  were  on  the  trees,  and 
the  morning  dew  had  brought  with  it  the  smell  of  the  living 
earth.  We  passed  the  stream  of  market  wagons  lumbering 
along,  pulled  by  sturdy,  patient  farm-horses,  driven  by  smocked 
countrymen,  who  touched  their  caps  to  the  fine  gentlemen  of 
the  court  end  of  town ;  who  shook  their  heads  and  exchanged 
deep  tones  over  the  whims  of  quality,  unaccountable  as  the 
weather.  But  one  big-chested  fellow  arrested  his  salute,  a  scowl 
came  over  his  face,  and  he  shouted  back  to  the  wagoner  whose 
horses  were  munching  his  hay  :  — 

"  Hi,  Jeems,  keep  down  yere  hands.  Mr.  Fox  is  noo  friend 
of  we." 


368  KICHAED   CAKVEL 

This  brought  a  hard  smile  on  Mr.  Fox's  face. 

"  I  believe,  Richard,"  he  said,  "  I  have  become  more  detested 
than  any  man  in  Parliament." 

"And  justly,"  I  replied;  ''for  you  have  fought  all  that  is 
good  in  you." 

"  I  was  mobbed  once,  in  Parliament  Street.  I  thought  they 
would  kill  me.  Have  you  ever  been  mobbed,  Eichard  ?  "  he 
asked  indifferently. 

"  Never,  I  thank  Heaven,"  I  answered  fervently. 

"I  think  I  would  rather  be  mobbed  than  indulge  in  any 
amusement  I  know  of,"  he  continued.  "  Than  confound  Wed- 
derburn,  or  drive  a  measure  against  Burke,  —  which  is  no  bad 
sport,  my  word  on't.  I  would  rather  be  mobbed  than  have  my 
horse  win  at  Newmarket.  There  is  a  keen  pleasure  you  wot 
not  of,  my  lad,  in  listening  to  Billingsgate  and  Spitalfields 
howl  maledictions  upon  you.  And  no  sensation  I  know  of  is 
equal  to  that  of  the  moment  when  the  mud  and  sticks  and 
oranges  are  coming  through  the  windows  of  your  coach,  when 
the  dirty  weavers  are  clutching  at  your  ruffles  and  shaking 
their  filthy  fists  under  yoiir  nose." 

"  It  is,  at  any  rate,  strictly  an  aristocratic  pleasure,"  I  as- 
sented, laughing. 

So  we  came  to  Holland  House.  Its  wide  fields  of  sprouting 
corn,  its  woods  and  pastures  and  orchards  in  blossom,  were 
smiling  that  morning,  as  though  Leviathan,  the  town,  were  not 
rolling  onward  to  swallow  them.  Lord  Holland  had  bought  the 
place  from  the  Warwicks,  with  all  its  associations  and  memories. 
The  capped  towers  and  quaint  fa(^ades  and  projecting  windows 
were  plain  to  be  seen  from  where  we  halted  in  the  shaded 
park,  and  to  the  south  was  that  Kensington  Eoad  we  had  left, 
over  which  all  the  glory  and  royalty  of  England  at  one  time  or 
another  had  rolled.  Under  these  majestic  oaks  and  cedars 
Cromwell  and  Ireton  had  stood  while  the  beaten  Eoyalists 
lashed  their  horses  on  to  Brentford.  Nor  did  I  forget  that  the 
renowned  Addison  had  lived  here  after  his  unhappy  marriage 
with  Lady  Warwick,  and  had  often  ridden  hence  to  Button's 
Coifee  House  in  town,  where  my  grandfather  had  had  his 
dinner  with  Dean  Swift. 


HOLLAND   HOUSE  369 

We  sat  gazing  at  the  building,  which  was  bathed  in  the 
early  sun,  at  the  deer  and  sheep  grazing  in  the  park,  at  the 
changing  colours  of  the  young  leaves  as  the  breeze  swayed 
them.  The  market  wagons  had  almost  ceased  now,  and  there 
was  little  to  break  the  stillness. 

"  You  love  the  place  ?  "  I  said. 

He  started,  as  though  I  had  awakened  him  out  of  a  sleep. 
And  he  was  no  longer  the  Fox  of  the  clubs,  the  cynical,  the 
reckless.  He  was  no  longer  the  best-dressed  man  in  St, 
James's  Street,  or  the  aggressive  youngster  of  St.  Stephen's. 

"  Love  it ! "  he  cried.  "  Ay,  Richard,  and  few  guess  how 
well.  You  will  not  laugh  when  I  tell  you  that  my  happiest 
days  have  been  passed  here,  when  I  was  but  a  chit,  in  the 
long  room  where  Addison  used  to  walk  up  and  down  compos- 
ing his  Spectators :  or  trotting  after  my  father  through  these 
woods  and  gardens.  A  kinder  parent  does  not  breathe  than 
he.  Well  I  remember  how  he  tossed  me  in  his  arms  under 
that  tree  when  I  had  thrashed  another  lad  for  speaking  ill  of 
him.  He  called  me  his  knight.  In  all  my  life  he  has  never 
broken  faith  with  me.  When  they  were  blasting  down  a  wall 
where  those  palings  now  stand,  he  promised  me  I  should  see  it 
done,  and  had  it  rebuilt  and  blown  down  again  because  I  had 
missed  the  sight.  All  he  ever  exacted  of  me  was  that  I  should 
treat  him  as  an  elder  brother.  He  had  his  own  notion  of  the 
world  I  was  going  into,  and  prepared  me  accordingly.  He 
took  me  from  Eton  to  Spa,  where  I  learned  gaming  instead  of 
Greek,  and  gave  me  so  much  a  night  to  risk  at  play." 

I  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  To  say  that  I  thought 
these  relations  strange  would  have  been  a  waste  of  words. 

"  To  be  sure,"  Charles  continued,  "  I  was  bound  to  learn,  and 
could  acquire  no  younger."  He  flicked  the  glossy  red  backs  of 
his  horses  with  his  whip.  "You  are  thinking  it  an  extraordi- 
nary education,  I  know,"  he  added  rather  sadly.  "  I  have  told 
you  this  —  God  knows  why !  Yes,  because  I  like  you  dam- 
nably, and  you  would  have  heard  worse  elsewhere,  both  of  him 
and  of  me.  I  fear  you  have  listened  to  the  world's  opinion  of 
Lord  Holland." 

Indeed,  I  had  heard  a  deal  of  that  nobleman's  peculations  of 
2b 


370  RICHARD   CARVEL 

the  public  funds.  But  in  this  he  was  no  worse  than  the  bulk 
of  his  colleagues.  His  desertion  of  William  Pitt  I  found  hard 
to  forgive. 

"  The  best  father  in  the  world,  Richard ! "  cried  Charles. 
"  If  his  former  friends  could  but  look  into  his  kind  heart,  and 
see  him  in  his  home,  they  would  not  have  turned  their  backs 
upon  him.  I  do  not  mean  such  scoundrels  as  Rigby.  And  now 
my  father  is  in  exile  half  the  year  in  Nice,  and  the  other  half 
at  King's  Gate.  The  King  and  Jack  Bute  used  him  for  a  tool, 
and  then  cast  him  out.  You  wonder  why  I  am  of  the  King's 
party  ?  "  said  he,  with  something  sinister  in  his  smile ;  "  I 
will  tell  you.  When  1  got  my  borough  I  cared  not  a  fig  for 
parties  or  principles.  I  had  only  the  one  definite  ambition,  to 
revenge  Lord  Holland.  Nay,"  he  exclaimed,  stopping  my 
protest,  "  I  was  not  too  young  to  know  rottenness  as  well  as 
another.  The  times  are  rotten  in  England.  You  may  have 
virtue  in  America,  amongst  a  people  which  is  fresh  from  a 
struggle  with  the  earth  and  its  savages.  We  have  cursed  little 
at  home,  in  faith.  The  King,  with  his  barley  water  and  rising 
at  six,  and  shivering  in  chapel,  and  his  middle-class  table,  is 
rottener  than  the  rest.  The  money  he  saves  in  his  damned 
beggarly  court  goes  to  buy  men's  souls.  His  word  is  good  with 
none.  For  my  part  I  prefer  a  man  who  is  drunk  six  days  out 
of  the  seven  to  one  who  takes  his  pleasure  so.  And  I  am  not 
so  great  a  fool  that  I  cannot  distinguish  justice  from  injustice, 
I  know  the  wrongs  of  the  colonies,  which  you  yourself  have  put 
as  clear  as  I  wish  to  hear,  despite  Mr.  Burke  and  his  eloquence.^ 
And  perhaps,  Richard,"  he  concluded,  with  a  last  lingering  look 
at  the  old  pile  as  he  turned  his  horses,  "  perhaps  some  day,  I 
shall  remember  what  you  told  us  at  Brooks's." 

It  was  thus,  boyishly,  that  Mr.  Fox  chose  to  take  me  into  his 
confidence,  an  honour  which  I  shall  remember  with  a  thrill  to 
my  dying  day.  So  did  he  reveal  to  me  the  impulses  of  his 
early  life,  hidden  forever  from  his  detractors.  How  little  does 
the  censure  of  this  world  count,  which  cannot  see  the  heart 
behind  the  embroidered  waistcoat !     When  Charles  Fox  began 

iMy  grandfather  has  made  a  note  here,  which  in  justice  shouW  be  added, 
that  he  was  not  deceived  by  Mr.  Fox's  partiality.  — D.  C.  C. 


HOLLAND   HOUSE  371 

his  career  he  was  a  thoughtless  lad,  but  steadfast  to  such  prin- 
ciples as  he  had  formed  for  himself.  They  were  not  many,  but, 
compared  to  those  of  the  arena  which  he  entered,  they  were 
noble.  He  strove  to  serve  his  friends,  to  lift  the  name  of  a 
father  from  whom  he  had  received  nothing  but  kindness,  how- 
ever misguided.  And  when  he  saw  at  length  the  error  of  his 
ways,  what  a  mighty  blow  did  he  strike  for  the  right ! 

"  Here  is  a  man,"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  many  years  afterwards, 
"  who  has  divided  his  kingdom  with  Caesar ;  so  that  it  was  a 
doubt  whether  the  nation  should  be  ruled  by  the  sceptre  of 
George  the  Third  or  the  tongue  of  Fox." 


CHAPTER  XL 

VAUXHALL 

Matters  had  come  to  a  pretty  pickle  indeed.  I  was  openly 
warned  at  Brooks's  and  elsewhere  to  beware  of  the  duke,  who 
was  said  upon  various  authority  to  be  sulking  in  Hanover 
Square,  his  rage  all  the  more  dangerous  because  it  was  smoul- 
dering. I  saw  Dolly  only  casually  before  the  party  to  Vaux- 
hall.  Needless  to  say,  she  flew  in  the  face  of  Dr.  James's 
authority,  and  went  everywhere.  She  was  at  Lady  Bunbury's 
drum,  whither  I  had  gone  in  another  fruitless  chase  after  Mr. 
Marmaduke.  Dr.  Warner's  verse  was  the  laughter  of  the  com- 
pany. And,  greatly  to  my  annoyance,  —  in  the  circumstances, 
—  I  was  made  a  hero  of,  and  showered  with  three  times  as 
many  invitations  as  I  could  accept. 

The  whole  story  got  abroad,  even  to  the  awakening  of  the 
duke  in  Covent  Garden.  And  that  clownish  Mr.  Foote,  of  the 
Haymarket,  had  added  some  lines  to  a  silly  popular  song  en- 
titled The  Sights  o'  Lunnun,  with  which  I  was  hailed  at  Mrs. 
Betty's  fruit-stall  in  St.  James's  Street.  Here  is  one  of  the 
verses : — 

"In  Maryland,  he  hunts  the  Fox 
From  dewy  Morn  till  Day  grows  dim; 
At  Home  he  finds  a  Paradox,  — 
From  Noon  till  Dawn  the  Fox  hunts  him." 

Charles  Fox  laughed  when  he  heard  it.  But  he  was  serious 
when  he  came  to  speak  of  Chartersea,  and  bade  me  look  out 
for  assassination.  I  had  Banks  follow  me  abroad  at  night  with 
a  brace  of  pistols  under  his  coat,  albeit  I  feared  nothing  save 
that  I  should  not  have  an  opportunity  to  meet  the  duke  in  a 

372 


VAUXHALL  373 

fair  fight.  And  I  resolved  at  all  hazards  to  run  Mr.  Marma- 
duke  down  with  despatch,  if  I  had  to  waylay  him. 

Mr.  Storer,  who  was  forever  giving  parties,  was  responsible 
for  this  one  at  Vauxhall.  We  went  in  three  coaches,  and  be- 
sides Dorothy  and  Mr.  Marmaduke,  the  company  included  Lord 
and  Lady  Carlisle,  Sir  Charles  and  Lady  Sarah  Bunbury,  Lady 
Ossory  and  Lady  Julia  Howard,  two  Miss  Stanleys  and  Miss 
Poole,  and.  Comyn,  and  Hare,  and  Price,  and  Fitzpatrick,  the 
latter  feeling  very  glum  over  a  sum  he  had  dropped  that  after- 
noon to  Lord  Harrington.  Fox  had  been  called  to  St.  Steph- 
en's on  more  printer's  business. 

Dolly  was  in  glowing  pink,  as  I  loved  best  to  see  her,  and 
looked  divine.  Comyn  and  I  were  in  Mr.  Manners's  coach. 
The  evening  was  fine  and  warm,  and  my  lady  in  very  lively 
spirits.  As  we  rattled  over  Westminster  Bridge,  the  music  of 
the  Vauxhall  band  came  "  throbbing  through  the  still  night," 
and  the  sky  was  bright  with  the  reflection  of  the  lights.  It 
was  the  fashion  with  the  quality  to  go  late ;  and  so  eleven 
o'clock  had  struck  before  we  had  pulled  up  between  Vaux- 
hall stairs,  crowded  with  watermen  and  rough  mudlarks,  and 
the  very  ordinary-looking  house  which  forms  the  entrance 
of  the  great  garden.  Leaving  the  servants  outside,  single-file 
we  trailed  through  the  dark  passage  guarded  by  the  wicket- 
gate. 

"  Prepare  to  be  ravished,  Richard,"  said  my  lady,  with  fine 
sarcasm. 

"  You  were  yourself  born  in  the  colonies,  miss,"  I  retorted. 
"  I  confess  to  a  thrill,  and  will  not  pretend  that  I  have  seen 
such  sights  often  enough  to  be  sated." 

"  La ! "  exclaimed  Lady  Sarah,  who  had  overheard ;  "  I  vow 
this  is  refreshing.  Behold  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,  Mr. 
Carvel ! " 

Indeed,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  company,  I  took  no 
pains  to  hide  my  enthusiasm  at  the  brilliancy  of  the  scene 
which  burst  upon  me.  A  great  orchestra  rose  in  the  midst  of 
a  stately  grove  lined  on  all  four  sides  with  supper-boxes  of 
brave  colours,  which  ran  in  straight  tiers  or  swept  around  in 
circles.     These  were  filled  with  people  of  all  sorts  and  condi- 


374  RICHARD   CARVEL 

tions,  supping  and  making  merry.  Other  people  were  sauntering 
under  the  trees,  keeping  step  with  the  music.  Lamps  of  white 
and  blue  and  red  and  green  hung  like  luminous  fruit  from  the 
branches,  or  clustered  in  stars  and  crescents  upon  the  buildings. 
"  Why,  Richard,  you  are  as  bad  as  Farmer  Colin. 

"  '  O  Patty  !     Soft  in  feature, 
I've  been  at  dear  Vauxhall ; 
No  paradise  is  sweeter, 
Not  that  they  Eden  call.' " 

whispered  Dolly,  paraphrasing. 

At  that  instant  came  hurrying  Mr.  Tom  Tyers,  who  was  one 
of  the  brothers,  proprietors  of  the  gardens.  He  was  a  very 
lively  young  fellow  who  seemed  to  know  everybody,  and  he 
desired  to  know  if  we  would  walk  about  a  little  before  being 
shown  to  the  boxes  reserved  for  us. 

"  They  are  on  the  right  side,  Mr.  Tyers  ?  "  demanded  Mr. 
Storer. 

''  Oh,  to  be  sure,  sir.  Your  man  was  most  particular  to  stipu- 
late the  pink  and  blue  flowered  brocades,  next  the  Prince  of 
Wales's." 

"  But  you  must  have  the  band  stop  that  piece,  Mr.  Tyers," 
cried  Lady  Sarah.  "  I  declare,  it  is  too  much  for  my  nerves. 
Let  them  play  Dibbin's  Ephesian  3Iatron." 

"As  your  Ladyship  wishes,"  responded  the  obliging  Mr. 
Tyers,  and  sent  off  an  uniformed  warder  to  the  band-master. 

As  he  led  us  into  the  Rotunda,  my  Lady  Dolly,  being  in  one 
of  her  whimsical  humours,  began  to  recite  in  the  manner  of  the 
guide-book,  to  the  vast  diversion  of  our  party  and  the  honest 
citizens  gaping  at  us. 

"  This,  my  lords,  ladies,  and  gentlemen,"  says  the  minx,  "  is 
that  marvellous  Rotunda  commonly  known  as  the  '  umbrella,' 
where  the  music  plays  on  wet  nights,  and  where  we  have  our 
masquerades  and  ridottos.  Their  Royal  Highnesses  are  very 
commonly  seen  here  on  such  occasions.  As  you  see,  it  is  deco- 
rated with  mirrors  and  scenes  and  busts,  and  with  gilded  fes- 
toons. That  picture  was  painted  by  the  famous  Hogarth. 
The  organ  in  the  orchestra  cost  —  you  must  supply  the  figure, 


VAUXHALL  375 

Mr.  Tyers,  —  and  the  ceiling  is  at  least  two  hundred  feet 
high.  Gentlemen  from  the  colonies  and  the  country  take 
notice." 

By  this  time  we  were  surrounded.  Mr.  Marmaduke  was 
scandalized  and  crushed,  but  Mr.  Tyers,  used  to  the  vagaries  of 
his  fashionable  patrons,  was  wholly  convulsed. 

"  Faith,  Miss  Manners,  and  you  would  consent  to  do  this 
two  nights  more,  we  should  have  to  open  another  gate," 
he  declared.  Followed  by  the  mob,  which  it  seems  was  part 
of  the  excitement,  he  led  us  out  of  the  building  into  the 
Grand  Walk;  and  offered  to  turn  on  the  waterfall  and  mill, 
which  (so  Lady  Sarah  explained  to  me)  the  farmers  and  mer- 
chants fell  down  and  worshipped  every  night  at  nine,  to  the 
tinkling  of  bells.  She  told  Mr.  Tyers  there  was  diversion 
enough  without  "  tin  cascades."  When  we  got  to  the  Grand 
Cross  Walk  he  pointed  out  the  black  "  Wilderness "  of  tall 
elms  and  cedars  looming  ahead  of  us.  And  so  we  came  to  the 
South  Walk,  with  its  three  triumphal  arches  framing  a  noble 
view  of  architecture  at  the  far  end.  Our  gentlemen  saun- 
tered ahead,  with  their  spy-glasses,  staring  the  citizens'  pretty 
daughters  out  of  countenance,  and  making  cynical  remarks. 

"  Why,  egad !  "  I  heard  Sir  Charles  say,  "  the  wig-makers 
have  no  cause  to  petition  his  Majesty  for  work.  I'll  be  sworn 
the  false  hair  this  good  staymaker  has  on  cost  a  guinea." 

A  remark  which  caused  the  staymaker  (if  such  he  was)  such 
huge  discomfort  that  he  made  off  with  his  wife  in  the  opposite 
direction,  to  the  time  of  jeers  and  cock-crows  from  the  bevy 
of  Vauxhall  bucks  walking  abreast. 

"You  must  show  us  the  famous  'dark  walks,'  Mr.  Tyers," 
says  Dorothy. 

"  Surely  you  will  not  care  to  see  those,  Miss  Manners." 

"0  lud,  of  course  you  must,"  chimed  in  the  Miss  Stanleys; 
"there  is  no  spice  in  these  flaps  and  flies." 

He  led  us  accordingly  into  Druid's  Walk,  overarched  with 
elms,  and  dark  as  the  shades,  our  gentlemen  singing,  "  'Ods  ! 
Lovers  will  contrive,"  in  chorus,  the  ladies  exclaiming  and 
drawing  together.  Then  I  felt  a  soft,  restraining  hold  on  my 
arm,  and  fell  back  instinctively,  vibrating  to  the  touch. 


376  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  Could  you  not  see  that  I  have  been  trying  to  get  a  word 
with  you  for  ever  so  long  ?  " 

"  I  trust  you  to  find  a  way,  Dolly,  if  you  but  wish,"  I  re- 
plied, admiring  her  stratagem. 

"I  am  serious  to-night."  Indeed,  her  voice  betrayed  as 
much.  How  well  I  recall  those  rich  and  low  tones!  "I  said 
I  wished  you  shut  up  in  the  Marshalsea,  and  I  meant  it.  I 
have  been  worrying  about  you." 

"  You  make  me  very  happy,"  said  I ;  which  was  no  lie. 

"Richard,  you  are  every  bit  as  reckless  and  indifferent  of 
danger  as  they  say  your  father  was.     And  I  am  afraid  — " 

"  Of  what  ?  "  I  asked  quickly. 

"You  once  mentioned  a  name  to  me  — " 

"  Yes  ?  "     I  was  breathing  deep. 

"I  have  forgiven  you,"  she  said  gently.  "I  never  meant 
to  have  referred  to  that  incident  more.  You  will  understand 
whom  I  mean.  You  must  know  that  he  is  a  dangerous  man, 
and  a  treacherous.  Oh ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  1  have  been  in 
hourly  terror  ever  since  you  rode  against  him  in  Hyde  Park. 
There  !  I  have  said  it." 

The  tense  sweetness  of  that  moment  none  will  ever  know. 

"  But  you  have  more  reason  to  fear  him  than  I,  Dorothy." 

"  Hush  ! "  she  whispered,  catching  her  breath  ;  "  what  are 
you  saying  ?  " 

"  That  he  has  more  cause  to  fear  me  than  I  to  dread  him." 

She  came  a  little  closer. 

"You  stayed  in  London  for  me,  Richard.  Why  did  you? 
There  was  no  need,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  there  was  no  need,  do 
you  hear  ?  Oh,  I  shall  never  forgive  Comyn  for  his  meddling  ! 
I  am  sure  'twas  he  who  told  you  some  ridiculous  story.  He 
had  no  foundation  for  it." 

"Dorothy,"  I  demanded,  my  voice  shaking  with  earnest- 
ness, "will  you  tell  me  honestly  there  is  no  foundation  for 
the  report  that  the  duke  is  intriguing  to  marry  you  ?  " 

That  question  was  not  answered,  and  regret  came  the  in- 
stant it  had  left  my  lips  —  regret  and  conviction  both.  Doro- 
thy joined  Lady  Carlisle  before  our  absence  had  been  noted, 
and  began  to  banter  Fitzpatrick  upon  his  losings. 


VAUXHALL  377 

We  were  in  the  lighted  Grove  again,  and  sitting  down  to  a 
supper  of  Vauxhall  fare :  transparent  slices  of  ham  (which 
had  been  a  Vauxhall  joke  for  ages),  and  chickens  and  cheese 
cakes  and  champagne  and  claret,  and  arrack  punch.  Mr. 
Tyers  extended  the  concert  in  our  favour.  Mrs.  Weichsell 
and  the  beautiful  Baddeley  trilled  sentimental  ballads  which 
our  ladies  chose ;  and  Mr.  Vernon,  the  celebrated  tenor,  sang 
Ciqyid''s  Recruiting  Sergeant  so  happily  that  Storer  sent  him 
a  bottle  of  champagne.  After  which  we  amused  ourselves  with 
oatches  until  the  space  between  our  boxes  and  the  orchestra 
was  filled.  In  the  midst  of  this  Comyn  came  quietly  in  from 
the  other  box  and  took  a  seat  beside  me. 

"  Chartersea  is  here  to-night,"  said  he. 

I  started.     "  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"Tyers  told  me  he  turned  up  half  an  hour  since.  Tom 
asked  his  Grace  to  join  our  party,"  his  Lordship  lawghed. 
"  Duke  said  no  —  he  was  to  be  here  only  half  an  hour,  and 
Tom  did  not  push  him.  He  told  me  as  a  joke,  and  thinks 
Chartersea  came  to  meet  some  petite." 

"  Any  one  with  him  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Yes.  Tall,  dark  man,  one  eye  cast,  —  that's  Lewis.  They 
have  come  on  some  dirty  work,  Richard.  Watch  little  Mar- 
maduke.     He  has  been  fidgety  as  a  cat  all  night." 

"  That's  true,"  said  I.  Looking  up,  I  caught  Dorothy's  eyes 
upon  us,  her  lips  parted,  uneasiness  and  apprehension  plain 
upon  her  face.     Comyn  dropped  his  voice  still  lower. 

"  I  believe  she  suspects  something,"  he  said,  rising.  "  Char- 
tersea is  gone  off  toward  the  Wilderness,  so  Tom  says.  You 
must  not  let  little  Marmaduke  see  him.  If  Manners  gets  up 
to  go,  I  will  tune  up  Black-eyed  Susan,  and  do  you  follow 
on  some  pretext.  If  you  are  not  back  in  a  reasonable  time,  I'll 
after  you." 

He  had  been  gone  scant  three  minutes  before  I  heard  his 
clear  voice  singing  All  in  the  Doivns,  and  up  I  got,  with  a 
precipitation  far  from  politic,  and  stepped  out  of  the  box.  Our 
company  stared  in  surprise.  But  Dorothy  rose  clear  from  her 
chair.  The  terror  I  saw  stamped  upon  her  face  haunts  me  yet, 
and  I  heard  her  call  my  name. 


378  RICHAED   CARVEL 

I  waited  for  nothing.  Gaining  the  Grand  Walk,  I  saw  Mr. 
Marmaduke's  insignificant  figure  dodging  fearfully  among  the 
roughs,  whose  hour  it  was.  He  traversed  the  Cross  Walk,  and 
twenty  yards  farther  on  dived  into  an  opening  in  the  high 
hedge  bounding  the  Wilderness.  Before  he  had  made  six 
paces  I  had  him  by  the  shoulder,  and  he  let  out  a  shriek  of 
fright  like  a  woman's. 

"  It  is  I,  Richard  Carvel,  Mr.  Manners,"  I  said  shortly.  I 
could  not  keep  out  the  contempt  from  my  tone.  "I  beg  a  word 
with  you." 

In  his  condition  then  words  were  impossible.  His  teeth  rat- 
tled again,  and  he  trembled  like  a  hare  caught  alive.  I  kept 
my  hold  of  him,  and  employed  the  time  until  he  should  be 
more  composed  peering  into  the  darkness.  For  all  I  knew 
Chartersea  might  be  within  ear-shot.  But  I  could  see  nothing 
but  black  trunks  of  trees. 

"  What  is  it,  Richard  ?  " 

"  You  are  going  to  meet  Chartersea,"  I  said. 

He  must  have  seen  the  futility  of  a  lie,  or  else  was  scared 
out  of  all  contrivance.     "  Yes,"  he  said  weakly. 

"  You  have  allowed  it  to  become  the  talk  of  London  that  this 
filthy  nobleman  is  blackmailing  you  for  your  daughter,"  I  went 
on,  without  wasting  words.  "  Tell  me,  is  it,  or  is  it  not, 
true  ?  " 

As  he  did  not  answer,  I  retained  a  handful  of  the  grained 
silk  on  his  shoulder  as  a  measure  of  precaution. 

"  Is  this  so  ?  "  I  repeated. 

"  You  must  know,  I  suppose,"  he  said,  under  his  breath,  and 
with  a  note  of  sullenness. 

"  I  must,"  I  said  firmly.  "  The  knowledge  is  the  weapon  I 
need,  for  I,  too,  am  going  to  meet  Chartersea." 

He  ceased  quivering  all  at  once. 

"  You  are  going  to  meet  him  ! "  he  cried,  in  another  voice. 
"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  so,  —  it  is  so.     I  will  tell  you  all." 

"  Keep  it  to  yourself,  Mr.  Manners,"  I  replied,  with  repiig- 
nance,  "  I  have  heard  all  I  wish.     Where  is  he  ?  "  I  demanded, 

"  Hold  the  path  until  you  come  to  him.     And  God  bless  —  " 

I  shook  my  head. 


VAUXHALL  379 

"No,  not  that!  Do  you  go  back  to  the  company  and  make 
some  excuse  for  me.  Do  not  alarm  them.  And  if  you  get  the 
chance,  tell  Lord  Comyn  where  to  come." 

I  waited  until  I  saw  him  under  the  lights  of  the  Grand  Walk, 
and  fairly  running.  Then  I  swung  on  my  heel.  I  was  of  two 
minds  whether  to  wait  for  Comyn,  by  far  the  wiser  course. 
The  unthinking  recklessness  I  had  inherited  drove  me  on. 


CHAPTER  XLl 

THE    WILDERNESS 

My  eyes  had  become  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  and  pres- 
ently I  made  out  a  bench  ahead,  with  two  black  figures  starting 
from  it.  One  I  should  have  known  on  the  banks  of  the  Styx. 
From  each  came  a  separate  oath  as  I  stopped  abreast  them,  and 
called  the  duke  by  name. 

"  Mr.  Carvel !  "  he  cried ;  "  what  the  devil  do  you  here,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  am  come  to  keep  an  appointment  for  Mr.  Manners,"  I 
said.     "  May  I  speak  to  your  Grace  alone  ?  " 

He  made  a  peculiar  sound  by  sucking  in  his  breath,  meant 
for  a  sneering  laugh. 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  damned  if  you  shall !  I  have  nothing  in 
common  with  you,  sir.  So  love  for  Miss  Manners  has  driven 
you  mad,  my  young  upstart.     And  he  is  not  the  first,  Lewis." 

"  Nor  the  last,  by  G — ,"  says  the  captain. 

"  I  have  a  score  to  settle  with  you,  d — n  you ! "  cried  Char- 
tersea. 

"  That  is  why  I  am  here,  your  Grace,"  I  replied ;  "  only  you 
have  twisted  the  words.  There  has  been  foul  play  enough.  I 
have  come  to  tell  you,"  I  cried,  boiling  with  anger,  "I  have 
come  to  tell  you  there  has  been  foul  play  enough  with  a  weak- 
ling that  cannot  protect  himself,  and  to  put  an  end  to  your 
blackmail." 

In  the  place  of  an  oath,  a  hoarse  laugh  of  derision  came  out 
of  him.  But  I  was  too  angry  then  to  note  its  significance. 
I  slapped  his  face  —  nay,  boxed  it  so  that  my  palm  stung.  I 
heard  his  sword  scraping  out  of  the  scabbard,  and  drew  mine, 
stepping  back  to  distance  at  the  same  instant.  Then,  with 
something  of  a  shudder,  I  remembered  young  Atwater,  and  a 

38C 


THE   WILDERNESS  381 

brace  of  other  instances  of  his  villany.  I  looked  for  the 
captain.     He  was  gone. 

Our  blades,  the  duke's  and  mine,  came  together  with  a  ring,  and 
I  felt  the  strength  of  his  wrist  behind  his,  and  of  his  short,  pow- 
erful arm.  The  steel  sung  with  our  quick  changes  from  quarte 
to  tierce.  'Twas  all  by  the  feeling,  without  light  to  go  by,  and 
hatred  between  us  left  little  space  for  skill.  Our  lunges  were 
furious.  'Twas  not  long  before  I  felt  his  point  at  my  chest, 
but  his  reach  was  scant.  All  at  once  the  music  swelled  up : 
voices  and  laughter  were  wafted  faintly  from  the  pleasure- 
world  of  lights  beyond.  But  my  head  was  filled,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  else,  with  a  hatred  and  fury.  And  (God  forgive 
me !)  from  between  my  teeth  came  a  prayer  that  if  I  might 
kill  this  monster,  I  would  die  willingly. 

Suddenly,  as  I  pressed  him,  he  shifted  ground,  and  there 
was  Lewis  standing  within  range  of  my  eye.  His  hands  were 
nowhere  —  they  were  behind  his  back  !  God  alone  knowa 
why  he  had  not  murdered  me.  To  keep  Chartersea  between 
him  and  me  I  swung  another  quarter.  The  duke  seemed  to 
see  my  game,  struggled  against  it,  tried  to  rush  in  under  my 
guard,  made  a  vicious  lunge  that  would  have  ended  me  then 
and  there  had  he  not  slipped.  We  were  both  panting  like  wild 
beasts.  When  next  I  raised  my  eyes  Lewis  had  faded  into  the 
darkness.  Then  I  felt  my  head  as  wet  as  from  a  plunge,  the 
water  running  on  my  brow,  and  my  back  twitching.  Every 
second  I  thought  the  sting  of  his  sword  was  between  my  ribs. 
But  to  forsake  the  duke  would  have  been  the  maddest  of  follies. 

In  that  moment  of  agony  came  footsteps  beating  on  the  path, 
and  by  tacit  consent  our  swords  were  still.     We  listened. 

"  Richard  !  Richard  Carvel ! " 

For  the  second  time  in  my  life  I  thanked  Heaven  for  that 
brave  and  loyal  English  heart.  I  called  back,  but  my  throat 
was  dry  and  choked. 

"  So  they  are  at  their  d — d  assassins'  tricks  again !  You 
need  have  no  fear  of  one  murderer." 

With  that  their  steels  rang  out  behind  me  like  broadswords, 
Lewis  wasting  his  breath  in  curses  and  blasphemies.  I  began 
to  push  Chartersea  with  all  my  might,  and  the  wonder  of  it 


382  RICHARD   CARVEL 

was  that  we  did  not  fight  with  our  fingers  on  each  other's  necks. 
His  attacks,  too,  redoubled.  Twice  I  felt  the  stings  of  his 
point,  once  in  the  hand,  and  once  in  the  body,  but  I  minded 
them  as  little  as  pin-pricks.  I  was  sure  I  had  touched  him, 
too.  I  heard  him  blowing  distressedly.  The  casks  of  wine  he 
had  drunk  in  his  short  life  were  telling  now,  and  his  thrusts 
grew  weaker.  That  fiercest  of  all  joys  —  of  killing  an  enemy 
—  was  in  me,  when  I  heard  a  cry  that  rang  in  my  ears  for 
many  a  year  afterward,  and  the  thud  of  a  body  on  the  ground. 

"I  have  done  for  him,  your  Grace,"  says  Lewis,  with  an 
oath ;  and  added  immediately,  "  I  think  I  hear  people." 

Before  I  had  reached  my  Lord  the  captain  repeated  this,  and 
excitedly  begged  the  duke,  I  believe,  to  fly.  Chartersea  hissed 
out  that  he  would  not  move  a  step  until  he  had  finished  me, 
and  as  I  bent  over  the  body  his  point  popped  through  my  coat, 
and  the  pain  shot  under  my  shoulder.  I  staggered,  and  fell. 
A  second  of  silence  ensued,  when  the  duke  said  with  a  laugh 
that  was  a  cackle :  — 

"  He  won't  marry  her,  d — n  him  ! "  (panting).  "  He  had  me 
cursed  near  killed,  Lewis.     Best  give  him  another  for  luck." 

I  felt  his  heavy  hand  on  the  sword,  and  it  tearing  out  of  me. 
Next  came  the  single  word  "  Dover,"  and  they  were  gone.  I 
had  not  lost  my  senses,  and  was  on  my  knees  again  immediately, 
ripping  open  Comyn's  waistcoat  with  my  left  hand,  and  mur- 
muring his  name  in  an  agony  of  sorrow.  I  was  searching 
under  his  shirt,  wet  with  blood,  when  I  became  aware  of  voices 
at  my  side.  "  A  duel !  A  murder  1  Call  the  warders !  Ward- 
ers, ho ! " 

"  A  surgeon  ! "  I  cried.     "  A  surgeon  first  of  all ! " 

Some  one  had  wrenched  a  lamp  from  the  Grand  Walk  and 
held  it,  flickering  in  the  wind,  before  his  Lordship's  face. 
Guided  by  its  light,  more  people  came  running  through  the 
wood,  then  the  warders  with  lanthorns,  headed  by  Mr.  Tyers, 
and  on  top  of  him  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  my  Lord  Carlisle.  We 
carried  poor  Jack  to  the  house  at  the  gate,  and  closed  the  doors 
against  the  crowd. 

By  the  grace  of  Heaven  Sir  Charles  Blicke  was  walking  in 
the  gardens  that  night,  and,  battering  at  the  door,  was  admitted 


I 


THE   WILDEENESS  383 

along  with  the  constable  and  the  watch.  Assisted  by  a  young 
apothecary,  Sir  Charles  washed  and  dressed  the  wound,  which 
was  in  the  left  groin,  and  to  our  anxious  questions  replied  that 
there  was  a  chance  of  recovery. 

"  But  you,  too,  are  hurt,  sir,"  he  said,  turning  his  clear  eyes 
upon  me.  Indeed,  the  blood  had  been  dripping  from  my  hand 
and  arm  during  the  whole  of  the  operation,  and  I  began  to  be 
weak  from  the  loss  of  it.  By  great  good  fortune  Chartersea's 
thrust,  which  he  thought  had  ended  my  life,  passed  under  my 
armpit  from  behind  and,  stitching  the  skin,  lodged  deep  in  my 
right  nipple.  This  wound  the  surgeon  bound  carefully,  and 
likewise  two  smaller  ones. 

The  constable  was  for  carrying  me  to  the  Marshalsea.  And  so 
I  was  forced  to  tell  that  I  had  quarrelled  with  Chartersea ;  and 
the  watch,  going  out  to  the  scene  of  the  fight,  discovered  the 
duke's  sword  which  he  had  pulled  out  of  me,  and  Lewis's 
laced  hat;  and  also  a  trail  of  blood  leading  from  the  spot. 
Mr.  Tyers  testified  that  he  had  seen  Chartersea  that  night,  and 
Lord  Carlisle  and  Fitzpatrick  to  the  grudge  the  duke  bore  me. 
I  was  given  my  liberty. 

Comyn  was  taken  to  his  house  in  Brook  Street,  Grosvenor 
Square,  in  Sir  Charles's  coach,  whither  I  insisted  upon  preced- 
ing him.  'Twas  on  the  way  there  that  Fitzpatrick  told  me 
Dorothy  had  fainted  \7hen  she  heard  the  alarm  —  a  piece  of 
news  which  added  to  my  anxiety.  We  called  up  the  dowager 
countess,  Comyn's  mother,  and  Carlisle  broke  the  news  to  her, 
mercifully  lightening  me  of  a  share  of  the  blame.  Her  Lady- 
ship received  the  tidings  with  great  fortitude ;  and  instead  of 
the  torrent  of  reproaches  I  looked  for,  and  deserved,  she  im- 
plored me  to  go  home  and  care  for  my  injuries  lest  I  get  the 
fever.     I  believe  that  I  burst  into  tears. 

His  Lordship  was  carried  up  the  stairs  with  never  a  word  or 
a  groan  from  his  lips,  and  his  heart  beating  out  slowly. 

We  reached  my  lodgings  as  the  watchman  was  crying : 
"Past  two  o'clock,  and  a  windy  morning !  " 

Mr.  Fitzpatrick  stayed  with  me  that  night.  And  the  next 
morning,  save  for  the  soreness  of  the  cuts  I  had  got,  I  found 


384  RICHARD   CARVEL 

myself  well  as  ever.  I  was  again  to  thank  the  robustness 
of  my  health.  Despite  the  protests  of  Banks  and  Fitzpatrick, 
and  of  Mr.  Fox  (who  arrived  early,  not  having  been  to  bed  at 
all),  I  jumped  into  a  chaise  and  drove  to  Brook  Street.  There 
I  had  the  good  fortune  to  get  the  greatest  load  from  my  mind. 
Comyn  was  resting  so  much  easier  that  the  surgeon  had  left, 
and  her  Ladyship  retired  two  hours  since. 

The  day  was  misting  and  dark,  but  so  vast  was  my  relief 
that  I  imagined  the  sun  was  out  as  I  rattled  toward  Arling- 
ton Street.  If  only  Dolly  were  not  ill  again  from  the  shock,  I 
should  be  happy  indeed.  She  must  have  heard,  ere  then,  that 
I  was  not  killed ;  and  I  had  still  better  news  to  tell  her  than 
that  of  Lord  Comyn's  condition.  Mr.  Fox.  who  got  every 
rumour  that  ran,  had  shouted  after  me  that  the  duke  and 
Lewis  were  set  out  for  France.  How  he  knew  I  had  not  waited 
to  inquire.  But  the  report  tallied  with  my  own  surmise,  for 
they  had  used  the  word  "  Dover  "  when  they  left  us  for  dead 
in  the  Wilderness. 

I  dismissed  my  chaise  at  the  door. 

"  Mr.  Manners  waits  on  you,  sir,  in  the  drawing-room,"  said 
the  footman.  ''  Your  honour  is  here  sooner  than  he  looked  for," 
lie  added  gratuitously. 

"  Sooner  than  he  looked  for  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.  James  is  gone  to  you  but  quarter  of  an  hour 
since  with  a  message,  sir." 

I  was  puzzled. 

"  And  Miss  Manners  ?     Is  she  well  ?  " 

The  man  smiled. 

"  Very  well,  sir,  thank  your  honour." 

To  add  to  my  surprise,  Mr.  Marmaduke  was  pacing  the  draw- 
ing-room in  a  yellow  night-gown.  He  met  me  with  an  expres- 
sion I  failed  to  fathom,  and  then  my  eye  was  held  by  a  letter 
in  his  hand.     He  cleared  his  throat. 

"Good  morning,  Richard,"  said  he,  very  serious,  —  very 
pompous,  I  thought.  "  I  am  pleased  to  see  that  you  are  so 
well  out  of  the  deplorable  affair  of  last  night." 

I  had  not  looked  for  gratitude.  In  truth,  I  had  done  noth- 
ing for  him,  and  Chartersea  might  have  exposed  him  a  high- 


THE   WILDERNESS  385 

wayman  for  all  I  cared,  —  I  had  fought  for  Dolly.  But  this 
attitude  astonished  me.  I  was  about  to  make  a  tart  reply,  and 
then  thought  better  of  it. 

"Walter,  a  decanter  of  wine  for  Mr.  Carvel,"  says  he  to 
the  footman.  Then  to  me :  "  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  that  Lord 
Comyn  is  out  of  danger." 

I  merely  stared  at  him. 

"Will  you  sit  ?"  he  continued.  "  To  speak  truth,  the  Annap- 
olis packet  came  in  last  night  with  news  for  you.  Knowing 
that  you  have  not  had  time  to  hear  from  Maryland,  I  sent  for 
you." 

My  brain  was  in  such  a  state  that  for  the  moment  I  took  no 
meaning  from  this  introduction.  I  was  conscious  only  of  indig- 
nation against  him  for  sending  for  me,  when  for  all  he  knew  I 
might  have  been  unable  to  leave  my  bed.  Suddenly  I  jumped 
from  the  chair. 

"  You  have  heard  from  Maryland  ?  "  I  cried.  "  Is  Mr.  Car- 
vel dead  ?  Oh,  tell  me,  is  Mr.  Carvel  dead  ?  "  And  I  clutched 
his  arm  to  make  him  wince. 

He  nodded,  and  turned  away.  "My  dear  old  friend  is  no 
more,"  he  said.  "  Your  grandfather  passed  away  on  the  seventh 
of  last  month." 

I  sank  into  a  chair  and  bowed  my  face,  a  flood  of  recollec- 
tions overwhelming  me,  a  thousand  kindnesses  of  my  grand- 
father coming  to  mind.  One  comfort  alone  stood  forth, — 
even  had  I  gone  home  with  John  Paul,  I  had  missed  him. 
But  that  he  should  have  died  alone  with  Grafton  brought  the 
tears  brimming  to  my  eyes.  I  had  thought  to  be  there  to 
receive  his  last  words  and  blessing,  to  watch  over  him,  and  to 
smooth  his  pillow.  Who  had  he  else  in  the  world  to  bear  him 
affection  on  his  death-bed  ?  The  imagination  of  that  scene 
drove  me  mad. 

Mr.  Manners  aroused  me  by  a  touch,  and  T  looked  up  quickly. 
So  quickly  that  I  surprised  the  trace  of  a  smile  about  his  weak 
mouth.  Were  I  to  die  to-morrow,  I  would  swear  to  this  on  the 
Evangels.  Nor  was  it  the  smile  which  compels  itself  upon 
the  weak  in  serious  moments.  Nay,  there  was  in  it  something 
malicious.  And  Mr.  Manners  could  not  even  act. 
2c 


386  RICHARD  CARVEL 

"  There  is  more,  Richard,"  he  was  saying ;  "  there  is  worse 
to  come.     Can  you  bear  it  ?  " 

His  words  and  look  roused  me  from  my  sorrow.  I  have 
ever  been  short  of  temper  with  those  I  disliked,  and  (alas ! ) 
with  my  friends  also.  And  now  all  my  pent-up  wrath  against 
this  little  man  broke  forth.  I  divined  his  meaning,  and  forgot 
that  he  was  Dorothy's  father. 

"  Worse  ?"  I  shouted,  while  he  gave  back  in  his  alarm. 
"Do  you  mean  that  Grafton  has  got  possession  of  the  estate  ? 
Is  that  what  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  gasped,  "  yes.     I  pray  you  be  calm." 

"  And  you  call  that  worse  than  losing  my  dearest  friend  on 
earth  ?  "  I  cried.  There  must  have  been  an  infinite  scorn  in 
my  voice.  "  Then  your  standards  and  mine  are  different,  Mr. 
Manners.  Your  ways  and  mine  are  different,  and  I  thank  God 
for  it.  You  have  played  more  than  one  double  part  with  me. 
You  looked  me  in  the  face  and  denied  me,  and  left  me  to  go 
to  a  prison.  I  shall  not  repeat  my  grandfather's  kindnesses 
to  you,  sir.  Though  you  may  not  recall  them,  I  do.  And  if 
your  treatment  of  me  was  known  in  Maryland,  you  would 
be  drummed  out  of  the  colony  even  as  Mr.  Hood  was,  and 
hung  in  effigy." 

"As  God  hears  me,  Richard  — " 

"Do  not  add  perjury  to  it,"  I  said.  "And  have  no  uneasi- 
ness that  I  shall  publish  you.  Your  wife  and  daughter  have 
saved  you  before,  —  they  will  save  you  now." 

I  paused,  struck  speechless  by  a  suspicion  that  suddenly 
flashed  into  my  head.  A  glance  at  the  contemptible  form 
cowering  within  the  folds  of  the  flowered  gown  clinched  it  to 
a  conviction.  In  two  strides  I  had  seized  him  by  the  skin 
over  his  ribs,  and  he  shrieked  with  pain  and  fright. 

«  You  —  you  snake  ! "  I  cried,  in  uncontrollable  anger.  "  You 
well  knew  Dorothy's  spirit,  which  she  has  not  got  from  you, 
and  you  lied  to  her.  Yes,  lied,  I  say.  To  force  her  to  marry 
Chartersea  you  made  her  believe  that  your  precious  honour 
was  in  danger.  And  you  lied  to  me  last  night,  and  sent  me  in 
the  dark  to  fight  two  of  the  most  treacherous  villains  in  Eng- 
land.    You  wish  they  had  killed  me.     The  plot  was  between 


"You  .  .  .  Avori.n  seli-  your  daughter  and  your  honour  for  a  title" 


THE  WILDERNESS  387 

you  and  his  Grace.     You,  who  have  not  a  cat's  courage,  com 
mit  an  indiscretion !     You  never  made  one  in  your  life.     Tell 
me,"  I  cried,  shaking  him  until  his  teeth  smote  together,  "  was 
it  not  put  up  between  you  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go !  Let  me  go,  and  I  will  tell ! "  he  wailed  in  the 
agony  of  my  grip.     I  tightened  it  the  more. 

"  You  shall  confess  it  first,"  I  said,  from  between  my  teeth. 

Scarce  had  his  lips  formed  the  word  yes,  when  I  had  flung 
him  half  across  the  room.  He  tripped  on  his  gown,  and  fell 
sprawling  on  his  hands.  So  the  servant  found  us  when  he 
came  back  with  the  tray.     The  lackey  went  out  again  hastily. 

"  My  God ! "  I  exclaimed,  in  bitterness  and  disgust ;  "  you 
are  a  father,  and  would  sell  both  your  daughter  and  your  hon- 
our for  a  title,  and  to  the  filthiest  wretch  in  the  kingdom  ?  " 

Without  bestowing  upon  him  another  look,  I  turned  on  my 
heel  and  left  the  room.  I  had  set  my  foot  on  the  stair,  when 
I  heard  the  rustle  of  a  dress,  and  the  low  voice  which  I  knew 
so  well  calling  my  name. 

"  Richard." 

There  at  my  side  was  Dorothy,  even  taller  in  her  paleness, 
with  sorrow  and  agitation  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"Richard,  I  have  heard  all.  —  I  listened.  Are  you  going 
away  without  a  word  for  me?"  Her  breath  came  fast,  and 
mine,  as  she  laid  a  hand  upon  my  arm.  "  Richard,  I  do  not 
care  whether  you  are  poor.  What  am  I  saying?"  she  cried 
wildly.  "  Am  I  false  to  my  own  father  ?  Richard,  what  have 
you  done  ?  " 

And  then,  while  I  stood  dazed,  she  tore  open  her  gown,  and 
drawing  forth  a  little  gold  locket,  pressed  it  in  my  palm. 
"The  flowers  you  gave  me  on  your  birthday,  —  the  lilies  of 
the  valley,  do  you  remember?  They  are  here,  Richard.  I 
have  worn  them  upon  my  heart  ever  since." 

I  raised  the  locket  to  my  lips. 

"  I  shall  treasure  it  for  your  sake,  Dorothy,"  I  said,  "  for  the 
sake  of  the  old  days.     God  keep  you  ! " 

For  a  moment  I  looked  into  the  depths  of  her  eyes.  Then 
she  was  gone,  and  I  went  down  the  stairs  alone.  Outside,  the 
rain  fell  unheeded  on  my  new  coat.     My  steps  bent  southward, 


388  EICHAKD  CAEVEL 

past  Whiteliall,  wliere  the  martyr  Charles  had  met  death  so 
nobly :  past  the  stairs  to  the  river,  where  she  had  tripped  with 
me  so  gayly  not  a  month  since.  Death  was  in  my  soul  that 
day,  —  death  and  love,  which  is  the  mystery  of  life.  God 
guided  me  into  the  great  Abbey  near  by,  where  I  fell  on  my 
knees  before  Him  and  before  England's  dead.  He  had  raised 
them  and  cast  them  down,  even  as  He  was  casting  me,  that  I 
might  come  to  know  the  glory  of  His  holy  name. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

MY   FRIENDS   ARE   PROVEN 

At  the  door  of  my  lodgings  I  was  confronted  by  Banks,  red 
with  indignation  and  fidgety  from  uneasiness. 

"  0  Lord,  Mr.  Carvel,  what  has  happened,  sir  ? "  he  cried. 
"Your  honour's  agent  'as  been  here  since  noon.  Must  I  take 
orders  from  the  likes  o'  him,  sir  ?  " 

Mr.  Dix  was  indeed  in  possession  of  my  rooms,  lounging  in 
the  chair  Dolly  had  chosen,  smoking  my  tobacco.  I  stared  at 
him  from  the  threshold.  Something  in  my  appearance,  or 
force  of  habit,  or  both  brought  him  to  his  feet,  and  wiped  away 
the  smirk  from  his  face.  He  put  down  the  pipe  guiltily.  I 
told  him  shortly  that  I  had  heard  the  news  which  he  must 
have  got  by  the  packet :  and  that  he  should  have  his  money, 
tho'  it  took  the  rest  of  my  life :  and  the  ten  per  cent  I  had 
promised  him  provided  he  would  not  press  my  Lord  Comyn. 
He  hesitated,  and  drummed  on  the  table.  He  was  the  man  of 
business  again. 

"  What  security  am  I  to  have,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  My  word,"  I  said.  "  It  has  never  yet  been  broken,  I  thank 
God,  nor  my  father's  before  me.  And  hark  ye,  Mr.  Dix,  you 
shall  not  be  able  to  say  that  of  Grafton."  Truly  I  thought  the 
principal  and  agent  were  now  well  matched. 

"  Very  good,  Mr.  Carvel,"  he  said ;  "  ten  per  cent.  I  shall 
call  with  the  papers  on  Monday  morning." 

"  I  shall  not  run  away  before  that,"  I  replied. 

He  got  out,  with  a  poor  attempt  at  a  swagger,  wiluout  his 
customary  protestations  of  duty  and  humble  offers  of  service. 
And  I  thanked  Heaven  he  had  not  mads  a  scene,  which  in  my 

389 


390  EICHAED   CARVEL 

state  of  mind  I  could  not  have  borne,  but  must  have  laid  hands 
upon  him.  Perhaps  he  believed  Grafton  not  yet  secure  in  his 
title.  I  did  not  wonder  then,  in  the  heat  of  my  youth,  that  he 
should  have  accepted  my  honour  as  security.  But  since  I  have 
marvelled  not  a  little  at  this.  The  fine  gentlemen  at  Brooks's 
with  whom  I  had  been  associating  were  none  too  scrupulous,  and 
regarded  money-lenders  as  legitimate  prey.  Debts  of  honour 
they  paid  but  tardily,  if  at  all.  A  certain  nobleman  had  been 
owing  my  Lord  Carlisle  thirteen  thousand  pounds  for  a  couple 
of  years,  that  his  Lordship  had  won  at  hazard.  And  tho'  I  blush 
to  write  it,  Mr.  Fox  himself  was  notorious  in  such  matters,  and 
was  in  debt  to  each  of  the  coterie  of  fashionables  of  which  he 
was  the  devoted  chief. 

The  faithful  Banks  vowed,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  that  he 
would  never  desert  me.  And  in  that  moment  of  dejection  the 
poor  fellow's  devotion  brought  me  no  little  comfort.  At  such 
times  the  heart  is  bitter.  We  look  askance  at  our  friends,  and 
make  the  task  of  comfort  doubly  hard  for  those  that  remain 
true.  I  had  a  great  affection  for  the  man,  and  had  become  so 
used  to  his  ways  and  unwear3iing  service  that  I  had  not  the 
courage  to  refuse  his  prayers  to  go  with  me  to  America.  I  had 
not  a  farthing  of  my  own  —  he  would  serve  me  for  nothing  — 
nay,  work  for  me.  "  Sure,"  he  said,  taking  off  my  coat  and 
bringing  me  my  gown,  —  "  Sure,  your  honour  was  not  made  to 
work."  To  cheer  me  he  went  on  with  some  foolish  footman's 
gossip  that  there  lacked  not  ladies  with  jointures  who  would 
marry  me,  and  be  thankful.     I  smiled  sadly. 

"  That  was  when  I  was  Mr.  Carvel's  heir.  Banks." 
"  And  your  face  and  figure,  sir,  and  masterful  ways !  Faith, 
and  what  more  would  a  lady  want ! "  Banks's  notions  of 
morality  were  vague  enough,  and  he  would  have  had  me  sink 
what  I  had  left  at  hazard  at  Almack's.  He  had  lived  in  this 
atmosphere.  Alas  !  there  was  little  chance  of  my  ever  regain- 
ing the  position  I  had  held  but  yesterday.  I  tli  ought  of  the 
sponging-house,  and  my  brow  was  moist.  England  was  no 
place,  in  those  days,  for  fallen  gentlemen.  With  us  in  the 
Colonies  the  law  offered  itself.  Mr.  Swain,  and  other  barris- 
ters of  Annapolis,  came  to  my  mind,  for  God  had  given  me 


MY   FRIENDS  ARE  PROVEN  391 

courage.      I  would  try  the  law.      For  I  had  small  hopes  of 
defeating  my  Uncle  Grafton. 

The  Sunday  morning  dawned  brightly,  and  the  church  bells 
ringing  brought  me  to  my  feet,  and  out  into  Piccadilly,  in  the 
forlorn  hope  that  I  might  see  my  lady  on  her  way  to  morning 
service,  —  see  her  for  the  last  time  in  life,  perhaps.  Her  locket 
I  wore  over  my  heart.  It  had  lain  upon  hers.  To  see  her  was 
the  most  exquisite  agony  in  the  world.  But  not  to  see  her, 
and  to  feel  that  she  was  scarce  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  was 
beyond  endurance.  I  stood  beside  an  area  at  the  entrance  to 
Arlington  Street,  and  waited  for  an  hour,  quite  in  vain  ;  watch- 
ing every  face  that  passed,  townsmen  in  their  ill-fitting  Sunday 
clothes,  and  fine  ladies  with  the  footmen  carrying  velvet  prayer- 
books.  And  some  that  I  knew  only  stared,  and  others  gave 
me  distant  bows  from  their  coach  windows.  For  those  that 
fall  from  fashion  are  dead  to  fashion. 

Dorothy  did  not  go  to  church  that  day. 

It  is  a  pleasure,  my  dears,  when  writing  of  that  hour  of  bit- 
terness, to  record  the  moments  of  sweetness  which  lightened 
it.  As  I  climbed  up  to  my  rooms  in  Dover  Street,  I  heard  merry 
sounds  above,  and  a  cloud  of  smoke  blew  ©ut  of  the  door  when 
I  opened  it. 

"  Here  he  is,"  cried  Mr.  Fox.  "  You  see,  Richard,  we  have 
not  deserted  you  when  we  can  win  no  more  of  your  money." 

"  Why,  egad !  the  man  looks  as  if  he  had  had  a  calamity,"  said 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick.  • 

"  And  there  is  not  a  Jew  here,"  Fox  continued.  "  Tho'  it 
is  Sunday,  the  air  in  my  Jerusalem  chamber  is  as  bad  as  in  any 
crimp's  den  in  St.  Giles's.  'Slife,  and  I  live  to  be  forty,  I  shall 
have  as  many  underground  avenues  as  his  Majesty  Louis  the 
Eleventh." 

"  He  must  have  a  place,"  put  in  my  Lord  Carlisle. 

"  We  must  do  something  for  him,"  said  Fox,  "  albeit  he  is 
an  American  and  a  Whig,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  execrations. 
Thou  wilt  have  to  swallow  thy  golden  opinions,  my  buckskin, 
when  we  put  thee  in  office." 

I  was  too  overwhelmed  even  to  protest. 

"  You  are  not  in  such  a  cursed  bad  way,  when  all  is  said, 


392  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Richard,"  said  Fitzpatrick.  "  Charles,  when  he  loses  a  fortune, 
immediately  borrows  another." 

"  If  you  stick  to  whist  and  quinze,"  said  Charles,  solemnly, 
giving  me  the  advice  they  were  forever  thrusting  upon  him, 
"and  play  with  system,  you  may  make  as  much  as  four  thou- 
sand a  yeai',  sir." 

And  this  was  how  I  was  treated  by  those  heathen  and  cyni- 
cal macaronies,  Mr.  Fox's  friends.  I  may  not  say  the  same 
for  the  whole  of  Brooks's  Club,  tho'  I  never  darkened  its  doors 
afterwards.  But  I  encountered  my  Lord  March  that  afternoon, 
and  got  only  a  blank  stare  in  place  of  a  bow. 

Charles  had  collected  (Heaven  knows  how!)  the  thousand 
pounds  which  he  stood  in  my  debt,  and  Mr.  Storer  and  Lord 
Carlisle  offered  to  lend  me  as  much  as  I  chose.  I  had  some 
difficulty  in  refusing,  and  more  still  in  denying  Charles  when 
he  pressed  me  to  go  with  them  to  Richmond,  where  he  had 
rooms  for  play  over  Sunday. 

Banks  brought  me  the  news  that  Lord  Comyn  was  sitting  up, 
and  had  been  asking  for  me  that  day ;  that  he  was  recovering 
beyond  belief.  But  I  was  resolved  not  to  go  to  Brook  Street 
until  the  money  affairs  were  settled  on  Monday  with  Mr.  Dix, 
for  I  knew  well  that  his  Lordship  would  insist  upon  carrying 
out  with  the  agent  the  contract  he  had  so  generously  and  hastily 
made,  rather  than  let  me  pay  an  abnormal  interest. 

On  Monday  I  rose  early,  and  went  out  for  a  bit  of  air  before 
the  scene  with  Mr.  Dix.  Returning,  I  saw  a  coach  with  his 
Lordship's  arms  on  the  panels,  and  there  was  Comyn  himself  in 
my  great  chair  at  the  window,  where  he  had  been  deposited 
by  Banks  and  his  footman.  I  stared  as  on  one  risen  from  the 
dead. 

"  Why,  Jack,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  I  cried. 

He  replied  very  offhand,  as  was  his  manner  at  such  times :  — 

"  Blicke  vows  that  Chartersea  and  Lewis  have  qualified  for 
the  College  of  Surgeons,"  says  he.  "  They  are  both  born  anato- 
mists. Your  job  under  the  arm  was  the  worst  bungle  of  the 
two,  egad,  for  Lewis  put  his  sword,  pat  as  you  please,  between 
two  of  my  organs  (cursed  if  I  know  their  names),  and  not  so 
much  as  scratched  one." 


MY  FRIENDS   ARE  PROVEN  393 

"Look  you,  Jack,"  said  I,  "I  am  not  deceived.  You  have 
no  right  to  be  here,  and  you  know  it." 

"  Tush ! "  answered  his  Lordship  ;  "  I  am  as  well  as  you." 
And  he  took  snulT  to  prove  the  assertion.  "  Why  the  devil  was 
you  not  in  Brook  Street  yesterday  to  tell  me  that  your  uncle  had 
swindled  you  ?  I  thought  I  was  your  friend,"  says  he,  "  and  I 
learn  of  your  misfortune  through  others." 

"  It  is  because  you  are  my  friend,  and  my  best  friend,  that  I 
would  not  worry  you  when  you  lay  next  door  to  death  on  my 
account,"  I  said,  with  emotion. 

And  just  then  Banks  announced  Mr.  Dix. 

"  Let  him  wait,"  said  I,  greatly  disturbed. 

"  Show  him  up  !  "  said  my  Lord,  peremptorily. 

"  No,  no ! "  I  protested ;  "  he  can  wait.  We  shall  have  no 
business  now." 

But  Banks  was  gone.  And  I  found  out,  long  afterward, 
that  it  was  put  up  between  them. 

The  agent  swaggered  in  with  that  easy  assurance  he  assumed 
whenever  he  got  the  upper  hand.  He  was  the  would-be  squire 
once  again,  in  top-boots  and  a  frock.  I  have  rarely  seen  a 
man  put  out  of  countenance  so  easily  as  was  Mr.  Dix  that 
morning  when  he  met  his  Lordship's  fixed  gaze  from  the 
arm-chair. 

"  And  so  you  are  turned  Jew  ?  "  says  he,  tapping  his  snuff- 
box. "Before  you  go  ahead  so  fast  again,  you  will  please  to 
remember,  d — n  you,  that  Mr.  Carvel  is  the  kind  that  does 
not  lose  his  friends  with  his  fortune." 

Mr.  Dix  made  a  salaam,  which  was  so  ludicrous  in  a  squire 
that  my  Lord  roared  with  laughter,  and  I  feared  for  his  wound. 

"A  man  must  live,  my  Lord,"  sputtered  the  agent.  His 
discomfiture  was  painful. 

"At  the  expense  of  another,"  says  Comyn,  dryly.  "That  is 
your  motto  in  Change  Alley." 

"If  you  will  permit.  Jack,  I  must  have  a  few  words  in 
private  with  Mr.  Dix,"  I  cut  in  uneasily. 

His  Lordship  would  be  damned  first.  "  I  am  not  accustomed 
to  be  thwarted,  Richard,  I  tell  you.  Ask  the  dowager  if  I 
have  not  always  had  my  way.     I  am  not  going  to  stand  by 


394  KICHARD  CARVEL 

and  see  a  man  who  saved  my  life  fall  into  the  clutches  of  an 
usurer.  Yes,  I  said  usurer,  Mr.  Dix.  My  attorney,  Mr.  Ken- 
nett,  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  has  instructions  to  settle  with  you." 

And,  despite  all  I  could  say,  he  would  not  budge  an  inch. 
At  last  I  submitted  under  the  threat  ti  'at  he  would  never  after 
have  a  word  to  say  to  me.  By  good  luck,  when  I  had  paid 
into  Mr.  Dix's  hand  the  thousand  pounds  I  had  received  from 
Charles  Fox,  and  cleared  my  outstanding  bills,  the  sum  I 
remained  in  Comyn's  debt  was  not  greatly  above  seven  hun- 
dred pounds.  And  that  was  the  end  of  Mr.  Dix  for  me ;  when 
he  had  backed  himself  out  in  chagrin  at  having  lost  his  ten 
per  centum,  my  feelings  got  the  better  of  me.  The  water 
rushed  to  my  eyes,  and  I  turned  my  back  upon  his  Lordship. 
To  conceal  his  own  emotions  he  fell  to  swearing  like  mad. 

"  Fox  will  get  you  something,"  he  said  at  length,  when  he 
was  a  little  calmed. 

I  told  him,  sadly,  that   my  duty  took  me  to  America. 

"  And  Dorothy  ?  "  he  said ;  "  you  will  leave  her  ?  " 

I  related  the  whole  miserable  story  (all  save  the  part  of  the 
locket),  for  I  felt  that  I  owed  it  him.  His  excitement  grew 
as  he  listened,  until  I  had  to  threaten  to  stop  to  keep  him 
quiet.  But  when  I  had  done,  he  saw  nothing  but  good  to 
come  of  it. 

"  'Od's  life !  Richard,  lad,  come  here ! "  he  cried.  "  Give  me 
your  hand.  Why,  you  ass,  you  have  won  a  thousand  times 
over  what  you  lost.  She  loves  you !  Did  I  not  say  so  ?  And 
as  for  that  intriguing  little  puppy,  her  father^  you  have  pulled 
his  teeth,  egad.  She  heard  what  you  said  to  him,  you  tell  me. 
Then  he  will  never  deceive  her  again,  my  word  on't.  And 
Chartersea  may  come  back  to  London,  and  be  damned." 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

ANNAPOLIS    ONCE   MOEB 

Three  days  after  that  I  was  at  sea,  in  the  Norfolk  packet, 
with  the  farewells  of  luy  loyal  English  friends  ringing  in  my 
ears.  Captain  Graham,  the  master  of  the  packet,  and  his  pas- 
sengers found  me  but  a  poor  companion.  But  they  had  heard 
of  my  misfortune,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  heaping  kind- 
nesses upon  me.  Nor  did  they  intrude  on  my  walks  in  the 
night  watches,  to  see  me  slipping  a  locket  from  under  my 
waistcoat  —  ay,  and  raising  it  to  my  lips.  'Twas  no  doubt  a 
blessing  that  I  had  lesser  misfortunes  to  share  my  attention. 
God  had  put  me  in  the  way  of  looking  forward  rather  than 
behind,  and  I  was  sure  that  my  friends  in  Annapolis  would 
help  me  to  an  honest  living,  and  fight  my  cause  against 
Grafton. 

Banks  was  with  me.  The  devoted  soul  did  his  best  to  cheer 
me,  tho'  downcast  himself  at  leaving  England.  To  know  what 
to  do  with  him  gave  me  many  an  anxious  moment.  I  doubted 
not  that  I  could  get  him  into  a  service,  but  when  I  spoke  of 
such  a  thing  he  burst  into  tears,  and  demanded  whether  I 
meant  to  throw  him  off.  Nor  was  any  argument  of  mine 
of  use. 

After  a  fair  and  uneventful  voyage  of  six  weeks,  I  beheld 
again  my  native  shores  in  the  low  spits  of  the  Virginia  capes. 
The  sand  was  very  hot  and  white,  and  the  waters  of  the  Chesa- 
peake rolled  like  oil  under  the  July  sun.  We  were  all  day 
getting  over  to  Yorktown,  the  ship's  destination.  A  schooner 
was  sailing  for  Annapolis  early  the  next  morning,  and  I  barely 
had  time  to  get  off  my  baggage  and  catch  her.  We  went  up 
the  bay  with  a  fresh  wind  astern,  which  died  down  at  night 

396 


396  KICHARD   CARVEL 

The  heat  was  terrific  after  England  and  the  sea-voyage,  and 
we  slept  on  the  deck.  And  Banks  sat,  most  of  the  day,  ex- 
claiming at  the  vast  scale  on  which  this  new  country  was  laid 
out,  and  wondering  at  the  myriad  islands  we  passed,  some  of 
them  fair  with  grain  and  tobacco ;  and  at  the  low-lying  shores 
clothed  with  forests,  and  broken  by  the  salt  marshes,  with  now 
and  then  the  manor-house  of  some  gentleman-planter  visible  on 
either  side.  Late  on  the  second  day  I  beheld  again  the  cliffs 
that  mark  the  mouth  of  the  Severn,  then  the  sail-dotted  roads 
and  the  roofs  of  Annapolis. 

We  landed,  Banks  and  I,  in  a  pinnace  from  the  schooner, 
and  so  full  was  my  heart  at  the  sight  of  the  old  objects  that 
I  could  only  gulp  now  and  then,  and  utter  never  a  word. 
There  was  the  dock  where  I  had  paced  up  and  down  near  the 
whole  night,  when  Dolly  had  sailed  away;  and  Pryse  the 
coachmaker's  shop,  and  the  little  balcony  upon  which  I  had 
stood  with  my  grandfather,  and  railed  in  a  boyish  tenor  at 
Mr.  Hood.  The  sun  cast  sharp,  black  shadows.  And  it  being 
the  middle  of  the  dull  season,  when  the  quality  were  at  their 
seats,  and  the  dinner-hour  besides,  the  town  might  have  been  a 
deserted  one  for  its  stillness,  as  tho'  the  inhabitants  had  walked 
out  of  it,  and  left  it  so.  I  made  my  way.  Banks  behind  me, 
into  Church  Street,  past  the  "Ship"  tavern,  which  brought 
memories  of  the  brawl  there,  and  of  Captain  Clapsaddle  forc- 
ing the  mob,  like  chaff,  before  his  sword.  The  bees  were  hum- 
ming idly  over  the  sweet-scented  gardens,  and  Farris,  the 
clock-maker,  sat  at  his  door,  and  nodded.  He  jerked  his  head 
as  I  went  by  with  a  cry  of  "  Lord,  it  is  Mr.  Richard  back ! " 
and  I  must  needs  pause,  to  let  him  bow  over  my  hand. 
Farther  up  the  street  I  came  to  mine  host  of  the  Coffee  House 
standing  on  his  steps,  with  his  hands  behind  his  back. 

"  Mr.  Claude,"  I  said. 

He  looked  at  me  as  tho'  I  had  risen  from  the  dead. 

"  God  save  us ! "  he  shouted,  in  a  voice  that  echoed  through 
the  narrow  street.     "  God  save  us !  " 

He  seemed  to  go  all  to  pieces.  To  my  bated  questions  he 
replied  at  length,  when  he  had  got  his  breath,  that  Captain 
Clapsaddle  had  come  to  town  but  the  day  before,  and  was  even 


a:nkapolis  once  more  397 

then  in  the  coffee-room  at  his  dinner.  Alone  ?  Yes,  alone 
Almost  tottering,  I  mounted  the  steps,  and  turned  in  at  the 
coffee-room  door,  and  stopped.  There  sat  the  captain  at  a 
table,  the  roast  and  wine  untouched  before  him,  his  waistcoat 
thrown  open.  He  was  staring  out  of  the  open  window  into  the 
inn  garden  beyond,  with  its  shade  of  cherry  trees.  Mr.  Claude's 
cry  had  not  disturbed  his  reveries,  nor  our  talk  after  it.  I  went 
forward.  I  touched  him  on  the  shouLder,  and  he  sprang  up 
and  looked  once  into  my  face,  and  by  some  trick  of  the  mind 
uttered  the  very  words  Mr.  Claude  had  used. 

"  God  save  us  !  Richard  ! "  And  he  opened  his  arms  and 
strained  me  to  his  great  chest,  calling  my  name  again  and 
again,  while  the  tears  coursed  down  the  furrows  of  his  cheeks. 
For  I  marked  the  furrows  for  the  first  time,  and  the  wrinkles 
settling  in  his  forehead  and  around  his  eyes.  What  he  said 
when  he  released  me,  nor  my  replies,  can  I  remember  now,  but 
at  last  he  called,  in  his  ringing  voice,  to  mine  host :  — 

"A  bottle  from  your  choicest  bin,  Claude!  Some  of  Mr. 
Bordley's.     For  he  that  was  lost  is  found." 

The  hundred  questions  I  had  longed  to  ask  were  forgotten. 
A  peace  stole  upon  me  that  I  had  not  felt  since  I  had  looked 
upon  his  face  before.  The  wine  was  brought  by  Mr.  Claude, 
and  opened,  and  it  was  mine  host  who  broke  the  silence,  and 
the  spell. 

"  Your  very  good  health,  Mr.  Richard,"  he  said ;  "  and  may 
you  come  to  your  own  again  !  " 

"I  drink  it  with  all  my  heart,  Richard,"  replied  Captain 
Daniel.  But  he  glanced  at  me  sadly,  and  his  honest  nature 
could  put  no  hope  into  his  tone.  "  We  have  got  him  back 
again,  Mr.  Claude.  And  God  has  answered  our  prayers.  So 
let  us  be  thankful."  And  he  sat  down  in  silence,  gazing  at  me 
in  pity  and  tenderness,  while  Mr.  Claude  withdrew.  "  I  can 
give  you  but  a  sad  welcome  home,  my  lad,"  he  said  presently, 
with  a  hesitation  strange  to  him.  "'Tis  not  the  first  bad  news 
I  have  had  to  break  in  my  life  to  your  family,  but  I  pray  it 
may  be  the  last."  He  paused.  I  knew  he  was  thinking  of 
the  black  tidings  he  had  once  brought  my  mother.  "Richard, 
your  grandfather  is  dead,"  he  ended  abruptly. 


398  EICHARD   CARVEL 

I  nodded  wonderingly. 

"  What ! "  he  exclaimed ;  "  you  have  heard  already  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Manners  told  me,  in  London,"  I  said,  completely  mys 
tified. 

"  London ! "  he  cried,  starting  forward.     "  London  and  Mi 
Manners !     Have  you  been  to  London  ?  " 

"  You  had  my  letters  to  Mr.  Carvel  ?  "  I  demanded,  turning 
suddenly  sick. 

His  eye  flashed. 

"  Never  a  letter.  We  mourned  you  for  dead,  Richard.  This 
is  Grafton's  work ! "  he  cried,  springing  to  his  feet  and  striking 
the  table  with  his  great  fist,  so  that  the  dishes  jumped.  "  Graf- 
ton Carvel,  the  prettiest  villain  in  these  thirteen  colonies  !  Oh, 
we  shall  hang  him  some  day." 

"Then  Mr.  Carvel  died  without  knowing  that  I  was  safe?" 
X  interrupted. 

"On  that  I'll  lay  all  my  worldly  goods,"  replied  Captain 
Daniel,  emphatically.  "  If  any  letters  came  to  Marlboro'  Street 
from  you,  Mr.  Carvel  never  dropped  eyes  on  'em." 

"  What  a  fool  was  I  not  to  have  written  you ! "  I  groaned. 

He  drew  his  chair  around  the  table,  and  close  to  mine. 

"  Had  the  news  that  you  escaped  death  been  cried  aloud  in 
the  streets,  my  lad,  'twould  never  have  got  to  your  grand- 
father's ear,"  he  said,  in  lower  tones.  "  I  will  tell  you  what 
happened,  tho'  I  have  it  at  second  hand,  being  in  the  North,  as 
you  may  remember.  Grafton  came  in  from  Kent  and  invested 
Marlboro'  Street.  He  himself  broke  the  news  to  Mr.  Carvel, 
who  took  to  his  bed.  Leiden  was  not  in  attendance,  you  may 
be  sure,  but  that  quack-doctor  Drake.  Swain  sent  me  a  mes- 
sage, and  I  killed  a  horse  getting  here  from  New  York.  But  I 
could  no  more  gain  admittance  to  your  grandfather,  Richard, 
than  to  King  George  the  Third.  I  was  met  in  the  hall  by  that 
crocodile,  who  told  me  with  too  many  fair  words  that  I  could 
not  see  my  old  friend ;  that  for  the  present  Dr.  Drake  denied 
him  everybody.  Then  I  damneu  Dr.  Drake,  and  Grafton  too. 
And  I  let  him  know  my  suspicions.  He  ordered  me  off,  Rich- 
ard —  from  that  house  which  has  been  my  only  home  for  these 
twenty  years."     His  voice  broke. 


ANNAPOLIS  ONCE  MORE  399 

''Mr.  Carvel  thought  me  dead,  then." 

"And  most  mercifully.  Your  black  Hugo,  when  he  was 
somewhat  recovered,  swore  he  had  seen  you  killed  and  carried 
otf.  Sooth,  they  say  there  was  blood  enough  on  the  place. 
But  we  spared  no  pains  to  obtain  a  clew  of  you.  I  went  north 
to  Boston,  and  Lloyd's  factor  south  to  Charleston.  But  no 
trace  of  the  messenger  who  came  to  the  Coffee  House  after 
you  could  we  find.  Hell  had  opened  and  swallowed  him.  And 
mark  this  for  consummate  villany :  Grafton  himself  spent  no 
less  than  five  hundred  pounds  in  advertising  and  the  like." 

"  And  he  is  not  suspected  ?"  1  asked.  This  was  the  same 
question  I  had  put  to  Mrs.  Manners.  It  caused  the  captain 
to  flare  up  again. 

"  'Tis  incredible  how  a  rogue  may  impose  upon  men  of  worth 
and  integrity  if  he  but  know  how  to  smirk  piously,  and  never 
miss  a  service.  And  then  he  is  an  exceeding  rich  man 
Riches  cover  a  multitude  of  sins  in  the  most  virtuous  com- 
munity in  the  world.  Your  Aunt  Caroline  brought  him  a 
pretty  fortune,  you  know.  We  had  ominous  times  this  spring, 
with  the  associations  forming,  and  the  Good  Intent  and  the 
rest  being  sent  back  to  England.  His  Excellency  was  at  his 
wits'  end  for  support.  It  was  Grafton  Carvel  who  helped  him 
most,  and  spent  money  like  tobacco  for  the  King's  cause, 
which,  being  interpreted,  was  for  his  own  advancement.  But 
1  believe  Colonel  Lloyd  suspects  him,  tho'  he  has  never  said 
as  much  to  me.  I  have  told  Mr.  Swain,  under  secrecy,  what  I 
think.  He  is  one  of  the  ablest  lawyers  that  the  colony  owns, 
Richard,  and  a  stanch  friend  of  yours.  He  took  your  case 
of  his  own  accord.     But  he  says  we  have  no  foothold  as  yet." 

When  I  asked  if  there  was  a  will  the  captain  rapped  out 
an  oath. 

"  'Sdeath  !  yes,"  he  cried,  "  a  will  in  favour  of  Grafton  and 
his  heirs,  witnessed  by  Dr.  Drake,  they  say,  and  another 
scoundrel.  Your  name  does  not  occur  throughout  tflie  length 
and  breadth  of  it.  You  were  dead.  But  you  will  have  to 
ask  Mr.  Swain  for  those  particulars.  My  dear  old  friend  was 
sadly  gone  when  he  wrote  it,  I  fear.  For  he  never  lacked 
shrewdness  in  his  best   days.     Nor,"  added  Captain  Daniel. 


400  RICHAKD   CARVEL 

with  force,  "nor  did  lie  want  for  a  proper  estimation  of 
Grafton." 

"He  has  never  been  the  same  since  that  first  sickness,"  1 
answered  sadly. 

When  the  captain  came  to  speak  of  Mr.  Carvel's  death, 
the  son  and  daughter  he  loved,  and  the  child  of  his  old  age  in 
the  grave  before  him,  he  proceeded  brokenly,  and  the  tears 
blinded  him.  Mr.  Carvel's  last  words  will  never  be  known, 
my  dears.  They  sounded  in  the  unfeeling  ears  of  the  serpent 
Grafton.  'Twas  said  that  he  was  seen  coming  out  of  his 
father's  house  an  hour  after  the  demise,  a  smile  on  his  face 
which  he  strove  to  hide  with  a  pucker  of  sorrow.  But  by 
God's  grace  Mr.  Allen  had  not  read  the  prayers.  The  rector 
was  at  last  removed  from  Annapolis,  and  had  obtained  the  fat 
living  of  Frederick  which  he  coveted. 

"  As  I  hope  for  salvation,"  the  captain  concluded,  "  I  will 
swear  there  is  not  such  another  villain  in  the  world  as  Graf- 
ton. The  imagination  of  a  fiend  alone  could  have  conceived 
and  brought  to  execution  the  crime  he  has  committed.  And 
the  Borgias  were  children  to  him.  'Twas  not  only  the  love  of 
money  that  urged  him,  but  hatred  of  you  and  of  your  father. 
That  was  his  strongest  motive,  I  believe.  However,  the  days 
are  coming,  lad,  when  he  shall  have  his  reward,  unless  all 
signs  fail.  And  we  have  had  enough  of  sober  talk,"  said  he, 
pressing  me  to  eat.  "  Faith,  but  just  now,  when  you  came  in, 
I  was  thinking  of  you,  Richard.  And  —  God  forgive  me !  — 
complaining  against  the  lot  of  my  life.  And  thinking,  now 
that  you  were  taken  out  of  it,  and  your  father  and  mother  and 
grandfather  gone,  how  little  I  had  to  live  for.  Now  you  are 
home  again,"  says  he,  his  eyes  lighting  on  me  with  affection, 
"  I  count  the  gray  hairs  as  nothing.  Let  us  have  your  story, 
and  be  merry.  Nay,  I  might  have  guessed  you  had  been  in 
London,  with  your  fine  clothes  and  your  English  servant." 

'Twas  a  long  story,  as  you  know,  my  dears.  He  lighted  his 
pipe  and  laid  his  big  hand  over  mine,  and  filled  my  glass,  and 
I  told  him  most  of  that  which  had  happened  to  me.  But  I  left 
out  the  whole  of  that  concerning  Mr.  Manners  and  the  Duke 
of   Chartersea,   nor   did   I   speak  of  the  sponging-housp       T 


ANNAPOLIS   ONCE  MORE  401 

believe  my  only  motive  for  this  omittance  was  a  reluctance  to 
dwell  upon  Dorothy,  and  a  desire  to  shield  her  father  for  her 
sake.  He  dropped  many  a  vigorous  exclamation  into  my 
pauses,  but  when  I  came  to  speak  of  my  friendship  with  Mr. 
Fox,  his  brow  clouded  over. 

"  'Ad's  heart ! "  he  cried,  "  'Ad's  heart !  And  so  you  are 
turned  Tory,  and  have  at  last  been  perverted  from  those  princi- 
ples for  which  I  loved  you  most.  In  the  old  days  my  conscience 
would  not  allow  me  to  advise  you,  Richard,  and  now  that  I  am 
free  to  speak,  you  are  past  advice." 

I  laughed  aloud. 

"  And  what  if  I  tell  you  that  I  made  friends  with  his  Grace 
of  Grafton,  and  Lord  Sandwich,  and  was  invited  to  Hichin- 
broke,  his  Lordship's  seat  ?  "  said  I. 

His  honest  face  was  a  picture  of  consternation. 

"  Now  the  good  Lord  deliver  us ! "  he  exclaimed  fervently. 
«  Sandwich !     Grafton !     The  devil !  " 

I  gave  myself  over  to  the  first  real  merriment  I  had  had  since 
I  had  heard  of  Mr.  Carvel's  death. 

"  And  when  Mr.  Fox  learned  that  I  had  lost  my  fortune,"  I 
went  on,  "he  offered  me  a  position  under  Government." 

"  Have  you  not  friends  enough  at  home  to  care  for  you,  sir  ?  " 
he  said,  his  face  getting  purple.  "  Are  you  Jack  Carvel's  son, 
or  are  you  an  impostor  ?  " 

"I  am  Jack  Carvel's  son,  dear  Captain  Daniel,  and  that  is 
why  I  am  here,"  I  replied.  "  I  am  a  stouter  Whig  than  ever, 
and  I  believe  I  might  have  converted  Mr.  Fox  himself  had  I 
remained  at  home  sufficiently  long,"  I  added,  with  a  solemn 
face.  And,  for  my  own  edification,  I  related  how  I  had  bearded 
his  Majesty's  friends  at  Brooks's,  whereat  he  gave  a  great,  joy- 
ful laugh,  and  thumped  me  on  the  back. 

"  You  dog,  Richard !  You  sly  rogue ! "  And  he  called  to  Mr. 
Claude  for  another  bottle  on  the  strength  of  that,  and  we 
pledged  the  Association.  He  peppered  me  with  questions  con- 
cerning Jimius,  and  Mr.  Wilkes,  and  Mr.  Franklin  of  Phila- 
delphia. Had  I  seen  him  in  London ?  "I  would  not  doubt  a 
Carvel's  word,"  says  the  captain,  "  (always  excepting  Grafton 

and  his  line,  as  usual),  but  you  may  duck  me  on  the  stool  and 
"  »^ 


402  RICHARD  CARVEL 

I  compreliend  why  Mr.  Fox  and  his  friends  took  up  witli  such 
a  young  rebel  rapscallion  as  you  —  and  after  the  speech  you 
made  'em." 

I  astonished  him  vastly  by  pointing  out  that  Mr.  Fox  and 
his  friends  cared  a  deal  for  place,  and  not  a  fig  for  principle ; 
that  my  frankness  had  entertained  rather  than  offended  them ; 
and  that,  having  a  taste  for  a  bit  of  wild  life  and  the  money  to 
gratify  it,  and  being  of  a  tolerant,  easy  nature  withal,  I  had 
contrived  to  make  many  friends  in  that  set,  without  aiming  at 
influence.  Whereat  he  gave  me  another  lick  between  the 
shoulders. 

"It  was  so  with  Jack,"  he  cried;  "thou  art  a  replica.  He 
would  have  made  friends  with  the  devil  himself.  In  the 
French  v/ar,  when  all  the  rest  of  us  Royal  Americans  were 
squabbling  with  his  Majesty's  officers  out  of  England,  and  curs- 
ing them  at  mess,  they  could  never  be  got  to  fight  with  Jack,  tho' 
he  gave  them  ample  provocation.  There  was  Tetherington,  of 
the  22d  foot,  —  who  jeered  us  for  damned  provincials,  and  swag- 
gered through  three  duels  in  a  week,  — would  enter  no  quarrel 
with  him.  I  can  hear  him  say :  '  Damn  you.  Carvel,  you  may 
slap  my  face  and  you  will,  or  walk  in  ahead  of  me  at  the  gen- 
eral's dinner  and  you  will,  but  I  like  you  too  well  to  draw  at 
you.  I  would  not  miss  your  company  at  table  for  all  the 
world.'  And  when  he  was  killed,"  Captain  Daniel  continued, 
lowering  his  voice,  "some  of  them  cried  like  women, — 
Tetherington  among  'em,  —  and  swore  they  would  rather  have 
lost  their  commissions  at  high  play." 

We  sat  talking  until  the  summer's  dusk  grew  on  apace,  and 
one  thing  cliis  devoted  lover  of  my  family  told  me,  which 
lightened  my  spirits  of  the  greatest  burden  that  had  rested 
upon  them  since  my  calamity  befell  me.  I  had  dwelt  at  length 
upon  my  Lord  Comyn,  and  upon  the  weight  of  his  services  to 
me,  and  touched  upon  the  sum  which  I  stood  in  his  debt.  The 
captain  interrupted  me. 

"  One  day,  before  your  mother  died,  she  sent  for  me,"  said 
he,  "and  I  came  to  Carvel  Hall.  You  were  too  young  to  re- 
member. It  was  in  September,  and  she  was  sitting  on  the 
seat  under  the  oak  she  loved  so  v/ell,  —  by  Dr.  Hilliard's  study. 


ANNAPOLIS   ONCE   MORE  403 

The  lace  shawl  your  father  had  given  her  was  around  her 
shoulders,  and  upon  her  face  was  the  smile  that  gave  me  a 
pang  to  see.  For  it  had  something  of  heaven  in  it,  Richard. 
She  called  me  '  Daniel '  then  for  the  second  time  in  her  life. 
She  bade  me  be  seated  beside  her.  '  Daniel,'  she  said,  *  when 
I  am  gone,  and  father  is  gone,  it  is  you  who  will  take  care  of 
Richard.  I  sometimes  believe  all  may  not  be  well  then,  and 
that  he  will  need  you.'  I  knew  she  was  thinking  of  Grafton," 
said  the  captain.  " '  I  have  a  little  money  of  my  own,  Daniel, 
which  I  have  saved  lately  with  this  in  view.  I  give  it  into 
your  charge,  and  if  trouble  comes  to  him,  my  old  friend,  you 
will  use  it  as  you  see  lit.' 

"  It  was  a  bit  under  a  thousand  pounds,  Richard.  And 
when  she  died  I  put  it  out  under  Mr.  Carroll's  direction  at  safe 
interest.  So  that  you  have  enough  to  discharge  your  debt,  and 
something  saved  against  another  emergency." 

He  fell  silent,  sunk  into  one  of  those  reveries  which  the 
memory  of  my  mother  awoke  in  him.  My  own  thoughts 
drifted  across  the  sea.  I  was  again  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  in 
Arlington  Street,  and  feeling  the  dearest  presence  in  the  world. 
The  pale  oval  of  Dorothy's  face  rose  before  me  and  the  troubled 
depths  of  her  blue  eyes.  And  I  heard  once  more  the  tremble 
in  her  voice  as  she  confessed,  in  words  of  which  she  took  no 
heed,  that  love  for  which  I  had  sought  in  vain. 

The  summer  dusk  was  gathering.  Outside,  under  the  cherry 
trees,  I  saw  Banks  holding  forth  to  an  admiring  circle  of  negro 
'ostlers.  And  presently  Mr.  Claude  came  in  to  say  that  Shaw, 
the  town  carpenter,  and  Sol  Mogg,  the  ancient  sexton  of  St. 
Anne's,  and  several  more  of  my  old  acquaintances  were  without, 
and  begged  the  honour  of  greeting  me. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

NOBLESSE    OBLIGE 

I  LAY  that  niglit  in  Captain  Clapsaddle's  lodgings  opposite, 
and  slept  soundly.  Banks  was  on  hand  in  the  morning  to 
assist  at  my  toilet,  and  was  greatly  downcast  when  I  refused 
him  this  privilege,  for  the  first  time.  Captain  Daniel  was 
highly  pleased  with  the  honest  fellow's  devotion  in  following 
me  to  America.  To  cheer  him  he  began  to  question  him  as  to  my 
doings  in  London,  and  the  first  thing  of  which  Banks  must  tell 
was  of  the  riding-contest  in  Hyde  Park,  which  I  had  omitted. 
It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  this  should  have  tickled  the  captain, 
who  always  had  my  horsemanship  at  heart;  and  when  it  came 
to  Chartersea's  descent  into  the  Serpentine,  I  thought  he 
would  go  into  apoplexy.  For  he  had  put  on  flesh  with  the 
years. 

The  news  of  my  return  had  spread  all  over  town,  so  that  I 
had  a  deal  more  handshaking  to  do  when  we  went  to  the 
Coffee  House  for  breakfast.  All  the  quality  were  in  the 
country,  of  course,  save  only  four  gentlemen  of  the  local 
Patriots'  committee,  of  which  Captain  Daniel  was  a  member, 
and  with  whom  he  had  an  appointment  at  ten.  It  was  Mr. 
Swain  who  arrived  first  of  the  four. 

This  old  friend  of  my  childhood  was  a  quiet  man  (I  may  not 
have  specified),  thin,  and  a  little  under  stature,  with  a  reced- 
ing but  thoughtful  forehead.  But  he  could  express  as  much 
of  joy  and  welcome  in  his  face  and  manner*  as  could  Captain 
Daniel  with  his  heartier  ways. 

"It  does  me  good  to  see  you,  lad,"  he  said,  pressing  my 
hand.  "I  heard  you  were  home,  and  sent  off  an  express  to 
Patty  and  the  mother  last  night." 

404 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  405 

"  And  are  they  not  here  ?  "  I  asked,  with  disappointment. 

Mr.  Swain  smiled. 

"  I  have  done  a  rash  thing  since  I  saw  you,  Richard,  and 
bought  a  little  plantation  in  Talbot,  next  to  Singleton's.  It 
will  be  my  ruin,"  he  added.  "  A  lawyer  has  no  business  with 
landed  ambitions." 

"  A  little  plantation !  "  echoed  the  captain.  "  'Od's  life,  he 
has  bought  one  of  his  Lordship's  own  manors  —  as  good  an 
estate  as  there  is  in  the  province." 

"  You  overdo  it,  Daniel,"  said  he,  reprovingly. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  stir  in  the  doorway,  and  in 
came  Mr.  Carroll,  the  barrister,  and  Mr.  Bordley  and  Colonel 
Lloyd.  These  gentlemen  gave  me  such  a  welcome  as  those 
warm-hearted  planters  and  lawyers  knew  how  to  bestow. 

"What,  ho!"  cried  Mr.  Lloyd,  <'I'm  stamped  and  taxed  if 
it  isn't  young  Richard  Carvel  himself.  Well,"  says  he,  "I 
know  one  who  will  sleep  easier  o'  nights  now,  —  one  Clapsaddle. 
The  gray  hairs  are  forgot,  Daniel.  We  had  more  to-do  over 
your  disappearance  than  when  Mr.  Worthington  lost  his 
musical  nigger.     Where  a  deuce  have  you  been,  sir  ?  " 

•<  He  shall  tell  us  when  we  come  back,"  said  Mr.  Bordley. 
"  He  has  brought  our  worthy  association  to  a  standstill  once, 
and  now  we  must  proceed  about  our  business.  Will  you  come, 
Richard?  I  believe  you  have  proved  yourself  a  sufficiently 
good  patriot,  and  in  this  very  house." 

We  went  down  Church  Street,  I  walking  behind  with  Colo- 
nel Lloyd,  and  so  proud  to  be  in  such  company  that  I  cared 
not  a  groat  whether  Grafton  had  my  acres  or  not.  I  remem- 
bered that  the  committee  all  wore  plain  and  sober  clothes,  and 
carried  no  swords.  Mr.  Swain  alone  had  a  wig.  I  had  been 
away  but  seven  months,  and  yet  here  was  a  perceptible  change. 
In  these  dignified  and  determined  gentlemen  England  had 
more  to  fear  than  in  all  the  mobs  at  Mr.  Wilkes's  back.  How 
I  wished  that  Charles  Fox  might  have  been  with  me. 

The  sun  beat  down  upon  the  street.  The  shopkeepers  were 
gathered  at  their  doors,  but  their  chattering  was  hushed  as 
the  dreaded  committee  passed.  More  than  one,  apparently, 
had  tasted  of  its  discipline.     Colonel  Lloyd  whispered  to  me 


406  RICHAKD   CARVEL 

to  keep  my  countenance,  that  they  were  not  after  very  large 
game  that  morning,  —  only  Chipchase,  the  butcher.  And 
presently  we  came  uj)on  the  rascal  putting  up  his  shutters  in 
much  precipitation,  although  it  was  noon.  He  had  shed  his 
blood-stained  smock  and  breeches,  and  donned  his  Sunday  best, 
—  a  white,  thick-set  coat,  country  cloth  jacket,  blue  broadcloth 
breeches,  and  white  shirt.  A  grizzled  cut  wig  sat  somewhat 
awry  under  his  bearskin  hat.  When  he  perceived  Mr.  Carroll 
at  his  shoulder,  he  dropped  his  shutter  against  the  wall,  and 
began  bowing  frantically. 

"  You  keep  good  hours,  Master  Chipchase,"  remarked  Colo- 
nel Lloyd. 

''  And  lose  good  customers,"  Mr.  Swain  added  laconically. 

The  butcher  wriggled. 

"  Your  honours  must  know  there  be  little  selling  when  the 
gentry  be  out  of  town.  And  I  was  to  take  a  holiday  to-day,  to 
see  my  daughter  married." 

"You  will  have  a  feast,  my  good  man?"  Captain  Daniel 
asked. 

"  To  be  sure,  your  honour,  a  feast." 

"  And  any  little  ewe-lambs  ? "  says  Mr.  Bordley,  very 
innocent. 

Master  Chipchase  turned  the  colour  of  his  meat,  and  his  wit 
failed  him. 

"  '  Fourthly,' "  recited  Mr.  Carroll,  with  an  exceeding  sober 
face,  "■ '  Fourthly,  that  we  will  not  kill,  or  suffer  to  be  killed,  or 
sell,  or  dispose  to  any  person  whom  we  have  reason  to  believe 
intends  to  kill,  any  ewe-lamb  that  shall  be  weaned  before  the 
first  day  of  May,  in  any  year  during  the  time  aforesaid.'  Have 
you  ever  heard  anything  of  that  sound,  Mr.  Chipchase  ?  " 

Mr.  Chipchase  had.  And  if  their  honours  pleased,  he  had  a 
defence  to  make,  if  their  honours  would  but  listen.  And  if 
their  honours  but  knew,  he  was  as  good  a  patriot  as  any  in  the 
province,  and  sold  his  wool  to  Peter  Psalter,  and  he  wore  the 
homespun  in  winter.  Then  Mr.  Carroll  drew  a  paper  from  his 
pocket,  and  began  to  read :  "  Mr.  Thomas  Hincks,  personally 
known  to  me,  deposeth  and  saith,  —  " 

Master  Chipchase's  knees  gave  from  under  him 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  407 

"  And  your  honours  please,"  he  cried  piteously,  "  I  killed 
the  lamb,  but  'twas  at  Mr.  Grafton  Carvel's  order,  who  was  in 
town  with  his  Excellency."  (Here  Mr.  Swain  and  the  captain 
glanced  significantly  at  me.)  "  And  I  lose  Mr.  Carvel's  cus- 
tom, there  is  twelve  pounds  odd  gone  a  year,  your  honours. 
And  I  am  a  poor  man,  sirs." 

"  Who  is  it  owns  your  shop,  my  man  ?  "  asks  Mr.  Bordley, 
very  sternly. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  honours  will  not  have  me  put  out  —  " 

The  wailing  of  his  voice  had  drawn  a  crowd  of  idlers  and 
brother  shopkeepers,  who  seemed  vastly  to  enjoy  the  knave's 
discomfiture.  Amongst  them  I  recognized  my  old  acquaint- 
ance. Weld,  now  a  rival  butcher.     He  pushed  forward  boldly. 

"  And  your  honours  please,"  said  he,  "  he  has  sold  lamb  to 
half  the  Tory,  gentry  in  Annapolis." 

"  A  lie  !  "  cried  Chipchase ;  "  a  lie,  as  God  hears  me  ! " 

Now  Captain  Clapsaddle  was  one  who  carried  his  loves  and 
his  hatreds  to  the  grave,  and  he  had  never  liked  Weld  since 
the  day,  six  years  gone  by,  he  had  sent  me  into  the  Ship 
tavern.  And  when  Weld  heard  the  captain's  voice  he  slunk 
away  without  a  word. 

"  Have  a  care.  Master  Weld,"  says  he,  in  a  quiet  tone  that 
boded  no  good ;  "  there  is  more  evidence  against  you  than  you 
will  like." 

Master  Chipchase,  after  being  frightened  almost  out  of  his 
senses,  was  pardoned  this  once  by  Captain  Daniel's  influence. 
We  went  thence  to  Mr.  Hildreth's  shop ;  he  was  suspected  of 
having  got  tea  out  of  a  South  River  snow  ;  then  to  Mr.  Jack- 
son's ;  and  so  on.  'Twas  after  two  when  we  got  back  to  the 
Coffee  House,  and  sat  down  to  as  good  a  dinner  as  Mr.  Claude 
could  prepare.  "  And  now,"  cried  Colonel  Lloyd,  "  we  shall 
have  your  adventures,  Sichard.  I  would  that  your  uncle  were 
here  to  listen  to  them,"  he  added  dryly. 

I  recited  them  very  much  as  I  had  done  the  night  before, 
and  I  warrant  you,  my  dears,  that  they  listened  with  more 
zest  and  eagerness  than  did  Mr.  Walpole.  But  they  were  all 
shrewd  men,  and  kept  their  suspicions,  if  they  had  any,  to  them- 
selves.    Captain  Daniel  would  have  me  omit  nothing,  —  my 


408  EICHARD  CARVEL 

intimacy  with  Mr.  Fox,  the  speech  at  Brooks's  Club,  and  the 
riding-match  at  Hyde  Park. 

"  What  say  you  to  that,  gentlemen  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Egad,  I'll 
be  sworn  he  deserves  credit,  —  an  arrant  young  spark  out  of 
the  Colonies,  scarce  turned  nineteen,  defeating  a  duke  of  the 
realm  on  horseback,  and  preaching  the  gospel  of  '  no  taxation ' 
at  Brooks's  Club !  Nor  the  favour  of  Sandwich  or  March 
could  turn  him  from  his  principles." 

Modesty,  my  dears,  does  not  permit  me  to  picture  the  enthu- 
siasm of  these  good  gentlemen,  who  bore  the  responsibility  of 
the  colony  of  Maryland  upon  their  shoulders.  They  made 
more  of  me  than  I  deserved.  In  vain  did  I  seek  to  explain 
that  if  a  yoimg  man  was  but  well-born,  and  had  a  full  purse 
and  a  turn  for  high  play,  his  principles  might  go  hang, 
for  all  Mr.  Fox  cared.  Colonel  Lloyd  commanded  that  the 
famous  rose  punch-bowl  be  filled  to  the  brim  with  Mr.  Claude's 
best  summer  brew,  and  they  drank  my  health  and  my  grand- 
father's memory.  It  mattered  little  to  them  that  I  was 
poor.  They  vowed  I  should  not  lose  by  my  choice.  Mr. 
Bordley  offered  me  a  home,  and  added  that  I  should  have  em- 
ployment enough  in  the  days  to  come.  Mr.  Carroll  pressed  me 
likewise.  And  big-hearted  Colonel  Lloyd  desired  to  send  me 
to  King's  College,  as  was  my  grandfather's  wish,  where  Will 
Fotheringay  and  my  cousin  Philip  had  been  for  a  term.  I  might 
make  a  barrister  of  myself.  Mr.  Swain  alone  was  silent  and 
thoughtful,  but  I  did  not  for  an  instant  doubt  that  he  would 
have  done  as  much  for  me. 

Before  we  broke  up  for  the  evening  the  gentlemen  plied  me 
with  questions  concerning  the  state  of  affairs  in  England,  and 
the  temper  of  his  Majesty  and  Parliament.  I  say  without 
vanity  that  I  was  able  to  enlighten  them  not  a  little,  for  I  had 
learned  a  deeper  lesson  from  the  set  into  which  I  had  fallen  in 
London  than  if  I  had  become  the  confidant  of  Rockingham  him- 
self. America  was  a  long  way  from  England  in  those  days.  I 
regretted  that  I  had  not  arrived  in  London  in  time  to  witness 
Lord  Chatham's  dramatic  return  to  politics  in  January,  when 
he  had  completed  the  work  of  Junius,  and  broken  up  the  Graf- 
ton ministry.     But  I  told  them  of  the  debate  I  had  heard  in 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  409 

St.  Stephen's,  and  made  them  laugh  over  Mr.  Eox's  rescue  of 
the  King's  friends,  and  the  hustling  of  Mr.  Burke  from  the 
Lords. 

They  were  very  curious,  too,  about  Mr.  INIanners ;  and  I  was 
put  to  much  ingenuity  to  answer  their  queries  and  not  reveal 
my  own  connection  with  him.  They  wished  to  know  if  it 
were  true  that  some  nobleman  had  flung  a  bottle  at  his 
head  in  a  rage  because  Dorothy  would  not  marry  him,  as 
Dr.  Courtenay's  letter  had  stated.  I  replied  that  it  was  so. 
I  did  not  add  that  it  was  the  same  nobleman  who  had  been 
pitched  into  the  Serpentine.  Nor  did  I  mention  the  fight 
at  Vauxhall.  I  made  no  doubt  these  things  would  come  to 
their  ears,  but  I  did  not  choose  to  be  the  one  to  tell  them.  Mr. 
Swain  remained  after  the  other  gentlemen,  and  asked  me  if  I 
would  come  with  him  to  Gloucester  Street;  that  he  had  some- 
thing to  say  to  me.  We  Avent  the  long  way  thither,  and  I  was 
very  grateful  to  him  for  avoiding  Marlboro'  Street,  which  must 
needs  bring  me  painful  recollections.  He  said  little  on  the 
way. 

I  almost  expected  to  see  Patty  come  tripping  down  from  the 
vine-covered  porch  with  her  needlework  in  her  hand,  and  the 
house  seemed  strangely  empty  without  her.  Mr.  Swain  had 
his  negro,  Romney,  place  chairs  for  us  under  the  apple  tree, 
and  bring  out  pipes  and  sangaree.  The  air  was  still,  and 
heavy  with  the  flowers'  scent,  and  the  sun  was  dipping  behind 
the  low  eaves  of  the  house.  It  was  so  natural  to  be  there  that 
I  scarce  realized  all  that  had  happened  since  last  I  saw  the 
back  gate  in  the  picket  fence.  Alas  !  little  Patty  would  never 
more  be  smuggled  through  it  and  over  the  wall  to  Marlboro' 
Street.     Mr.  Swain  recalled  my  thoughts. 

''  Captain  Clapsaddle  has  asked  me  to  look  into  this  matter 
of    the    will,  Richard,"    he     began    abruptly.      "  Altho'    we  ■ 
thought  never  to  see  you  again,  we  have  hoped  against  hope. 
I  fear  you  have  little  chance  for  your  property,  my  lad." 

I  replied  that  Captain  Daniel  had  so  led  me  to  believe,  and 
thanked  him  for  his  kindness  and  his  trouble. 

"  'Twas  no  trouble,"  he  replied  quickly.  "■  Indeed,  I  wish  it 
might  hare  been.     I  shall  always  think  of  your  grandfather 


410  RICHARD   CARVEL 

with  reverence  and  with  sorrow.  He  was  a  noble  man,  and 
was  a  friend  to  me,  in  spite  of  my  politics,  when  other  gentle- 
men of  position  would  not  invite  me  to  their  houses.  It  would 
be  the  greatest  happiness  of  my  life  if  I  could  restore  his 
property  to  you,  where  he  would  have  had  it  go,  and  deprive 
that  villain,  your  uncle,  of  the  fruits  of  his  crime." 

"  Then  there  is  nothing  to  be  got  by  contesting  the  will  ?  "  I 
asked. 

He  shook  his  head  soberly. 

"  I  fear  not  at  present,"  said  he,  "  nor  can  I  with  honesty 
hold  out  any  hope  to  you,  Richard.  Your  uncle,  by  reason  of 
his  wealth,  is  a  man  of  undue  influence  with  the  powers  of  the 
colony.  Even  if  he  were  not  so,  I  doubt  greatly  whether  we 
should  be  the  gainers.  The  will  is  undoubtedly  genuine.  Mr. 
Carvel  thought  you  dead,  and  we  cannot  prove  undue  influence 
by  Grafton  unless  we  also  prove  that  it  was  he  who  caused 
your  abduction.     Do  you  think  you  can  prove  that  ?  " 

"There  is  one  witness,"  I  exclaimed,  "who  overheard  my 
uncle  and  Mr.  Allen  talking  of  South  River  and  Griggs,  the 
master  of  the  slaver,  in  the  stables  at  Carvel  Hall." 

"  And  who  is  that  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Swain,  with  more  ex- 
citement than  I  believed  him  capable  of. 

"  Old  Harvey." 

"  Your  grandfather's  coachman  ?  Alas,  he  died  the  day 
after  Mr.  Carvel,  and  was  buried  the  same  afternoon.  Have 
you  spoken  of  this  ?  " 

"  Not  to  a  soul,"  said  I. 

"  Then  I  would  not.  You  will  have  to  be  very  careful  and 
say  nothing,  Richard.  Let  me  hear  what  other  reasons  you 
have  for  believing  that  your  uncle  tried  to  do  away  with 
you." 

I  told  him,  lucidly  as  possible,  everything  I  have  related  in 
these  pages,  and  the  admission  of  Griggs.  He  listened  in- 
tently, shaking  his  head  now  and  then,  but  not  a  word  out  of 
him. 

"  No,"  he  said  at  length,  "  nothing  is  there  which  will  be  ad- 
mitted, but  enough  to  damn  him  if  you  yourself  might  be  a 
witness.     I  will  give  you  the  law,  briefly  :    descendible  estates 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  411 

among  us  are  of  two  kinds,  estates  in  fee  simple  and  estates  in 
fee  tail.  Had  your  grandfather  died  without  a  will,  his  estate, 
which  we  suppose  to  be  in  fee  simple,  would  have  descended  to 
you  as  the  son  of  his  eldest  son,  according  to  the  fourth  of  the 
canons  of  descent  in  Blackstone.  But  with  us  fee  simple  estates 
are  devisable,  and  Mr.  Carvel  was  wholly  within  his  right  in 
cutting  off  the  line  of  his  eldest  son.     Do  you  follow  me  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

*' There  is  one  chance,"  he  continued,  "and  that  is  a  very 
slim  one.  I  said  that  Mr.  Carvel's  estate  was  supposed  to  be 
in  fee  simple.  Estates  tail  are  not  devisable.  Our  system  of 
registration  is  far  from  infallible,  and  sometimes  an  old  family 
settlement  turns  up  to  prove  that  a  property  which  has  been 
willed  out  of  the  direct  line,  as  in  fee  simple,  is  in  reality  en- 
tailed.    Is  there  a  possibility  of  any  such  document  ?  " 

I  replied  that  I  did  not  know.  My  grandfather  had  never 
brought  up  the  subject. 

"  We  must  bend  our  efforts  in  that  direction,"  said  the  bar- 
rister.    "  I  shall  have  my  clerks  make  a  systematic  search." 

He  ceased  talking,  and  sat  sipping  his  sangaree  in  the  ab- 
stracted manner  common  to  him.  I  took  the  opportunity  to 
ask  about  his  family,  thinking  about  what  Dolly  had  said  of 
Patty's  illness. 

"  The  mother  is  as  well  as  can  be  expected,  Richard,  and 
Patty  very  rosy  with  the  country  air.  Your  disappearance 
was  a  great  shock  to  them  both." 

"  And  Tom  ?  " 

He  went  behind  his  reserve.  "Tom  is  a  d^;— d  rake,"  he 
exclaimed,  with  some  vehemence.  "I  have  given  him  over. 
He  has  taken  up  with  that  macaroni  Courtenay,  who  wins  his 
money,  —  or  rather  my  money,  —  and  your  cousin  Philip,  when 
he  is  home  from  King's  College.  How  Tom  can  be  son  of  mine 
is  beyond  me,  in  faith.  I  see  him  about  once  in  two  months, 
when  he  comes  here  with  a  bill  for  his  satins  and  his  ruffles, 
and  a  long  face  of  repentance,  and  a  lot  of  gaming  debts  to 
involve  my  honour.  And  that  reminds  me,  Richard,"  said  he, 
looking  straight  at  me  with  his  clear,  dark  eyes  :  "  have  you 
made  any  plans  for  your  future  ?  " 


412  EICHARD   CARVEL 

I  ventured  to  ask  his  advice  as  to  entering  the  law. 

"  As  the  only  profession  open  to  a  gentleman,"  he  replied, 
smiling  a  little.  "  No,  you  were  no  more  cut  out  for  an  attor- 
ney, or  a  barrister,  or  a  judge,  than  was  I  for  a  macaroni  doc- 
tor. The  time  is  not  far  away,  my  lad,"  he  went  on,  seeing 
my  shame  and  confusion,  "  when  an  American  may  amass 
money  in  any  way  he  chooses,  and  still  be  a  gentleman, — 
behind  a  counter,  if  he  will." 

"I  do  not  fear  work,  Mr.  Swain,"  I  remarked,  with  some 
pride. 

"  That  is  what  I  have  been  thinking,"  he  said  shortly. 
"  And  I  am  not  a  man  to  make  up  m}'-  mind  while  you  count 
three,  Richard.  I  have  the  place  in  Talbot,  and  no  one  to 
look  after  it.     And  —  and  in  short  I  think  you  are  the  man." 

He  paused  to  watch  the  effect  of  this  upon  me.  But  I  was 
so  taken  aback  by  this  new  act  of  kindness  that  I  could  not 
say  a  word. 

"  Tom  is  fast  going  to  the  devil,  as  I  told  you,"  he  continued. 
"  He  cannot  be  trusted.  If  I  die,  that  estate  shall  be  Patty's, 
and  he  may  never  squander  it.  Captain  Daniel  tells  me,  and 
Mr.  Bordley  also,  that  you  managed  at  Carvel  Hall  with  sense 
and  ability.  I  know  you  are  very  young,"  but  I  think  I  may 
rely  upon  you." 

Again  he  hesitated,  eying  me  fixedly. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  with  his  quiet  smile,  "  it  is  the  old  noblesse 
oblige.  How  many  careers  has  it  ruined  since  the  world 
began ! " 


CHAPTER  XLV 

THE   HOUSE   OF    MEMORIES 

I  WAS  greatly  touched,  and  made  Mr.  Swain  many  awkward 
acknowledgments,  which  he  mercifully  cut  short.  I  asked 
him  for  a  while  to  think  over  his  offer.  This  seemed  to  please 
rather  than  displease  him.  And  my  first  impulse  on  reaching 
the  inn  was  to  ask  the  captain's  advice.  I  thought  better  of  it 
however,  and  at  length  resolved  to  thrash  out  the  matter  for 
myself. 

The  next  morning,  as  I  sat  reflecting,  an  overwhelming  de- 
sire seized  me  to  go  to  Marlboro'  Street.  Hitherto  I  could  not 
have  borne  the  sight  of  the  old  place.  I  gulped  down  my 
emotion  as  the  gate  creaked  behind  me,  and  made  my  way 
slowly  to  the  white  seat  under  the  big  chestnut  behind  the 
house,  where  my  grandfather  had  been  wont  to  sit  reading  his 
prints,  in  the  warm  weather.  The  flowers  and  the  hedges  had 
grown  to  a  certain  wildness ;  and  the  smell  of  the  American 
roses  carried  me  back  —  as  odours  will — ^to  long-forgotten 
and  trivial  scenes.  Here  I  had  been  caned  many  a  day  for 
Mr,  Daaken's  reports,  and  for  earlier  offences.  And  I  recalled 
my  mother  as  she  once  ran  out  at  the  sound  of  my  cries  to  beg 
me  off.  So  vivid  was  that  picture  that  I  could  hear  Mr.  Carvel 
say  :  "  He  is  yours,  madam,  not  mine.     Take  him  !  " 

I  started  up.  The  house  was  still,  the  sun  blistering  the 
green  paint  of  the  shutters.  My  eye  was  caught  by  those  on 
the  room  that  had  been  hers,  and  which,  by  my  grandfather's 
decree,  had  lain  closed  since  she  left  it.  The  image  of  it  grew 
in  my  mind :  the  mahogany  bed  with  its  poppy  counterpane 
and  creamy  curtains,  and  the  steps  at  the  side  by  which  she 
was  wont  to  enter  it ;  and  the  prie-dieii,  whence  her  soul  had 

413 


414  EICHARD   CAEVEL 

been  lifted  up  to  God.  And  the  dresser  with  her  china  and 
silver  upon  it,  covered  by  years  of  dust.  For  I  had  once  stolen 
the  key  from  Willis's  bunch,  crept  in,  and  crept  out  again,  awed. 
That  chamber  would  be  profaned,  now,  and  those  dear  orna- 
ments, which  were  mine,  violated.    The  imagination  choked  me. 

I  would  have  them.  I  must.  Nothing  easier  than  to  pry 
X)pen  a  door  or  window  in  the  north  wing,  by  the  ball-room. 
When  I  saw  Grafton  I  would  tell  him.  Nay,  I  would  write 
him  that  day.  I  was  even  casting  about  me  for  an  implement, 
when  I  heard  a  step  on  the  gravel  beside  me. 

I  swung  around,  and  came  face  to  face  with  my  uncle. 

He  must  have  perceived  me.  And  after  the  first  shock  of 
my  surprise  had  passed,  I  remarked  a  bearing  on  him  that  I 
had  not  seen  before.  He  was  master  of  the  situation  at  last, 
—  so  it  read.  The  realization  gave  him  an  easier  speech  than 
ever. 

"  I  thought  I  might  find  you  here,  Richard,"  he  said,  "  since 
you  were  not  at  the  Coffee  House." 

He  did  not  offer  me  his  hand.  I  could  only  stare  at  him, 
for  I  had  expected  anything  but  this. 

"  I  came  from  Carvel  Hall  to  get  you,"  he  proceeded  smoothly 
enough.  "  I  heard  but  yesterday  of  your  return,  and  some  of 
your  miraculous  adventures.  Your  recklessness  has  caused  us 
many  a  trying  day,  Richard,  and  I  believe  killed  your  grand- 
father. You  have  paid  dearly,  and  have  made  us  pay  dearly, 
for  your  mad  frolic  of  fighting  cut-throats  on  the  highroad." 

The  wonder  was  that  I  did  not  kill  him  on  the  spot.  I  can- 
not think  what  possessed  the  man,  —  he  must  have  known  me 
better. 

"  My  recklessness  !  "  I  shouted,  fairly  hoarse  with  anger.  I 
paid  no  heed  to  Mr.  Swain's  warning.  "You  d — d  scoun- 
drel!" I  cried,  "it  was  you  killed  him,  and  you  know  it.  When 
you  had  put  me  out  of  the  way  and  he  was  in  your  power,  you 
tortured  him  to  death.  You  forced  him  to  die  alone  with  your 
sneering  face,  while  your  shrew  of  a  wife  counted  cards  down- 
stairs. Grafton  Carvel,  God  knows  you  better  than  I,  who 
know  you  too  well.  And  He  will  punish  you  as  sure  as  the 
crack  of  doom." 


THE   HOUSE   OF   MEMORIES  415 

He  heard  me  through,  giving  back  as  I  came  forward,  his 
face  blanching  only  a  little,  and  wearing  all  the  time  that  yel- 
low smile  which  so  fitted  it. 

"  You  have  finished  ?  "  says  he. 

"  Ay,  I  have  finished.  And  now  you  may  order  me  from 
this  ground  you  have  robbed  me  of.  But  there  are  some  things 
in  that  house  you  shall  not  steal,  for  they  are  mine  despite 
you." 

"  Name  them,  Richard,"  he  said,  very  sorrowful. 

"The  articles  in  my  mother's  room,  which  were  hers." 

"  You  shall  have  them  this  day,"  he  answered. 

It  was  his  way  never  to  lose  his  temper,  tho'  he  were  called 
by  the  vilest  name  in  the  language.  He  must  always  assume 
this  pious  grief  which  made  me  long  to  throttle  him.  He  had 
the  best  of  me,  even  now,  as  he  took  the  great  key  from  his 
pocket. 

"  Will  you  look  at  them  before  you  go  ?  "  he  asked. 

At  first  I  was  for  refusing.  Then  I  nodded.  He  led  the 
way  silently  around  by  the  front ;  and  after  he  had  turned 
the  lock  he  stepped  aside  with  a  bow  to  let  me  pass  in  ahead 
of  him.  Once  more  I  was  in  the  familiar  hall  with  the  stairs 
dividing  at  the  back.  It  was  cool  after  the  heat,  and  musty, 
and  a  touch  of  death  hung  in  the  prisoned  air.  We  paused 
for  a  moinent  on  the  landing,  beside  the  higli,  triple-arched 
window  which  the  branches  tapped  on  windy  winter  days, 
while  Grafton  took  down  the  bunch  of  keys  from  beside  the 
clock.  I  thought  of  my  dear  grandfather  winding  it  every 
Sunday,  and  his  ruddy  face  and  large  figure  as  he  stood  glanc- 
ing sidewise  down  at  me.  Then  the  sound  of  Grafton's  feet 
upon  the  bare  steps  recalled  the  present. 

We  passed  Mr.  Carvel's  room  and  went  down  the  little  corri- 
dor over  the  ball-room,  until  we  came  to  the  full-storied  wing. 
My  uncle  flung  open  the  window  and  shutters  opposite  and  gave 
me  the  key.  A  delicacy  not  foreign  to  him  held  him  where  he 
was.  Time  had  sealed  the  door,  and  when  at  last  it  gave  before 
my  strength,  a  shower  of  dust  quivered  in  the  ray  of  sunlight 
from  the  window.  I  entered  reverently.  I  took  only  the  silver- 
bound  prayer-book,  cast  a  lingering  look  at  the  old  familiar  ob- 


416  RICHARD   CARVEL 

jects  dimly  defined,  and  came  out  and  locked  the  door  again 
I  said  very  quietly  that  I  would  send  for  the  things  that  after- 
noon,  for  my  anger  was  hushed  by  what  I  had  seen. 

We  halted  together  on  the  uncovered  porch  in  front  of  the 
house,  that  had  a  seat  set  on  each  side  of  it.  Marlboro' 
Street  was  still,  the  wide  trees  which  flanked  it  spreading  their 
shade  over  walk  and  roadway.  Not  a  soul  was  abroad  in  the 
midday  heat,  and  the  windows  of  the  long  house  opposite  were 
sightless. 

"  Richard,"  said  my  uncle,  staring  ahead  of  him,  "  I  came  to 
offer  you  a  home,  and  you  insult  me  brutally,  as  you  have  done 
unreproved  all  your  life.  And  yet  no  one  shall  say  of  me  that 
I  shirk  my  duty.  But  first  I  must  ask  you  if  there  is  aught  else 
you  desire  of  me." 

''  The  black  boy,  Hugo,  is  mine,"  I  said.  I  had  no  great  love 
for  Hugo,  save  for  association's  sake,  and  I  had  one  too  many 
servants  as  it  was ;  but  to  rescue  one  slave  from  Grafton's 
clutches  was  charity. 

"You  shall  have  him,"  he  replied,  "and  your  chaise,  and  your 
wardrobe,  and  your  horses,  and  whatever  else  I  have  that  belongs 
to  you.  As  I  was  saying,  I  will  not  shirk  my  duty.  The  mem- 
ory of  my  dear  father,  and  of  what  he  would  have  wished,  will 
not  permit  me  to  let  you  go  a-begging.  Yoa  shall  be  provided 
for  out  of  the  estate,  despite  what  you  have  said  and  done." 

This  was  surely  the  quintessence  of  a  rogue's  imagination. 
Instinctively  I  shrank  from  him.  With  a  show  of  piety  that 
turned  me  sick  he  continued :  — 

"  Let  God  witness  that  I  carry  out  my  father's  will ! " 

"  Stop  there,  Grafton  Carvel ! "  I  cried ;  "  you  shall  not  take 
His  name  in  vain.  Under  this  guise  of  holiness  you  and  your 
accomplice  have  done  the  devil's  own  work,  and  the  devil  will 
reward  ^'■ou." 

This  reference  to  Mr.  Allen,  I  believe,  frightened  him.  Eor 
a  second  only  did  he  show  it. 

"My  —  my  accomplice,  sir!"  he  stammered.  And  then 
righting  himself :  "  You  will  have  to  explain  this,  by  Heaven." 

"  In  ample  time  your  plot  shall  be  laid  bare,  and  you  and 
Ms  Reverence  shall  hang,  or  lie  in  chains." 


THE   HOUSE   OF   MEMORIES  417 

"You  threaten,  Mr.  Carvel?  "he  shouted,  nearly  stepping 
off  the  porch  in  his  excitement. 

"  Nay,  I  predict,"  I  replied  calmly.  And  I  went  down  the 
steps  and  out  of  the  gate,  he  looking  after  me.  Before  I  had 
turned  the  corner  of  Freshwater  Lane,  he  was  in  the  seat,  and 
fanning  himself  with  his  hat. 

I  went  straight  to  Mr.  Swain's  chambers  in  the  Circle,  where 
I  found  the  good  barrister  and  Captain  Daniel  in  their  shirt- 
sleeves, seated  between  the  windows  in  the  back  room.  Mr. 
Swain  was  grave  enough  when  he  heard  of  my  talk  with  Graf- 
ton, but  the  captain  swore  I  was  my  father's  son  (for  the 
fiftieth  time  since  I  had  come  back),  and  that  a  man  could  no 
more  help  flying  at  Grafton's  face  than  Knipe  could  resist  his 
legs ;  or  Cynthia  his  back,  if  he  went  into  her  stall.  I  had 
scarce  finished  my  recital,  when  Mr.  Renwick,  the  barrister's 
clerk,  announced  Mr.  Tucker,  which  caused  Mr.  Swain  to  let 
out  a  whistle  of  surprise. 

"So  the  wind  blows  from  that  quarter,  Daniel,"  said  he. 
«I  thought  so." 

Mr.  Tucker  proved  to  be  the  pettifogger  into  whose  hands 
Grafton  had  put  his  affairs,  taking  them  from  Mr.  Dulany  at 
Mr.  Carvel's  death.  The  man  was  all  in  a  sweat,  and  had 
hardly  got  in  the  door  before  he  began  to  talk.  He  had  no 
less  astonishing  a  proposition  to  make  than  this,  which  he 
enunciated  with  much  mouthing  of  the  honour  and  sense  of 
duty  of  Mr.  Grafton  Carvel.  His  client  offered  to  Mr.  Richard 
Carvel  the  estate  lying  in  Kent  County,  embracing  thirty-three 
hundred  acres  more  or  less  of  arable  land  and  woodland,  with 
a  fine  new  house,  together  with  the  indented  servants  and 
negroes  and  other  chattels  thereon.  Mr.  Richard  Carvel 
would  observe  that  in  making  this  generous  offer  for  the 
welfare  of  his  nephew,  Mr.  Tucker's  client  was  far  beyond  the 
letter  of  his  obligations ;  wherefore  Mr.  Grafton  Carvel  made 
it  contingent  upon  the  acceptance  of  the  estate  that  his 
nephew  should  sign  a  paper  renouncing  forever  any  claims 
upon  the  properties  of  the  late  Mr.  Lionel  Carvel.  This  con- 
dition was  so  deftly  rolled  up  in  law-Latin  that  I  did  not 
understand  a  word  of  it  until  Mr.  Swain  stated  it  very  briefly 

2  B 


418  .      EICHARD   CARVEL 

in  English.  His  quiet  laugh  prodigiously  disconcerted  the 
pettifogger,  who  had  before  been  sufficiently  ill  at  ease  in  the 
presence  of  the  great  lawyer.  Mr.  Tucker  blew  his  nose 
loudly  to  hide  his  confusion. 

"  And  what  say  you,  Richard  ?  "  said  Mr.  Swain,  without  a 
shade  of  accent  in  his  voice. 

I  bowed  my  head.  I  knew  that  the  honest  barrister  had 
read  my  heart  Avhen  he  spoke  of  noblesse  oblige.  That  sense- 
less pride  of  cast,  so  deep-rooted  in  those  born  in  our  province, 
had  made  itself  felt.  To  be  a  factor  (so  I  thought,  for  I  was 
young)  was  to  renounce  my  birth.  Until  that  moment  of 
travail  the  doctrine  of  equality  had  seemed  very  pretty  to  me. 
Your  fine  gentleman  may  talk  as  nobly  as  he  pleases  over  his 
Madeira,  and  yet  would  patronize  Monsieur  Rousseau  if  he 
met  him ;  and  he  takes  never  a  thought  of  those  who  knuckle 
to  him  every  day,  and  clean  his  boots  and  collect  his  rents. 
But  when  he  is  tried  in  the  fire,  and  told  suddenly  to  collect 
some  one  else's  rents  and  curse  another's  negroes,  he  is  faint- 
hearted for  the  experiment.  So  it  was  with  me  when  I  had 
to  meet  the  issue.  I  might  take  Grafton's  offer,  and  the  chance 
to  marry  Dorothy  was  come  again.  For  by  industry  the  owner 
of  the  Kent  lands  would  become  rich. 

The  room  was  hot,  and  still  save  for  the  buzzing  of  the  flies. 
When  I  looked  up  I  discovered  the  eyes  of  all  three  upon  me. 

"  You  may  tell  your  client,  Mr.  Tucker,  that  I  refuse  his 
offer,"  I  said. 

He  got  to  his  feet,  and  with  the  customary  declaration  of 
humble  servitude  bowed  himself  out. 

The  door  was  scarce  closed  on  him  when  the  captain  had  me 
by  the  hands. 

"What  said  I,  Henry?"  he  cried.  "Did  I  not  know  the 
lad  ?  " 

Mr.  Swain  did  not  stir  from  his  seat.  He  was  still  gazing 
at  me  with  a  curious  expression.  And  then  I  saw  the  world 
in  truer  colour.  This  good  Samaritan  was  not  only  taking  me 
into  his  home,  but  would  tight  for  my  rights  with  the  strong 
brain  that  had  lifted  him  out  of  poverty  and  obscurity.  I 
stood,  humbled  before  him. 


THE   HOUSE   OE   MEMORIES  419 

"  I  would  accept  your  kindness,  Mr.  Swain,"  I  said,  vainly 
trying  to  steady  my  voice,  "  but  I  have  the  faithful  fellow, 
Banks,  who  followed  me  here  from  England,  dependant  on 
me,  and  Hugo,  whom  I  rescued  from  my  uncle.  I  Avill  make 
over  the  black  to  you  and  you  will  have  him." 

He  rose,  brushed  his  eyes  with  his  shirt,  and  took  me  by 
the  arm.  "  You  and  the  captain  dine  with  me  to-day,"  says 
he.  "And  as  for  Banks,  I  think  that  can  be  arranged.  Now 
I  have  an  estate,  I  shall  need  a  trained  butler,  egad.  I  have  some 
affairs  to  keep  me  in  town  to-day,  Richard.  But  we'll  be  off 
for  Gordon''s  Pride  in  the  morning,  and  I  know  of  one  little 
girl  will  be  glad  to  see  us." 

We  dined  out  under  the  apple  tree  in  Gloucester  Street. 
And  the  captain  argued,  in  his  hopeful  way,  that  Tucker's 
visit  betrayed  a  weak  point  in  Grafton's  position.  But  the 
barrister  shook  his  head  and  said  that  Grafton  was  too  shrewd 
a  rogue  to  tender  me  an  estate  if  he  feared  me.  It  w^as  Mr. 
Swain's  opinion  that  the  motive  of  my  uncle  was  to  put  him- 
self in  a  good  light ;  and  perhaps,  he  added,  there  was  a  little 
revenge  mixed  therein,  as  the  Kent  estate  was  the  one  Mr. 
Carvel  had  given  him  when  he  cast  him  off. 

A  southerly  wind  was  sending  great  rolls  of  fog  before  it  as 
Mr.  Swain  and  I,  with  Banks,  crossed  over  to  Kent  Island  on 
the  ferry  the  next  morning.  We  traversed  the  island,  and 
were  landed  by  the  other  ferry  on  the  soil  of  my  native  county, 
Queen  Anne's.  In  due  time  we  cantered  past  Master  Dingley's 
tavern,  the  sight  of  w^hich  gave  me  a  sharp  pang,  for  it  is  there 
that  the  by-road  turns  over  the  bridge  to  Carvel  Hall  and  Wil- 
mot  House  ;  and  force  of  habit  drew  my  reins  to  the  right 
across  the  horse's  neck,  so  that  I  swerved  into  it.  The  barris- 
ter had  no  word  of  comment  when  I  overtook  him  again. 

'Twas  about  two  o'clock  when  "we  came  to  the  gate  Mr.  Swain 
had  erected  at  the  entrance  to  his  place ;  the  land  was  a  little 
rolling,  and  partly  wooded,  like  that  on  the  Wye.  But  the  fields 
were  prodigiously  unkempt.     He  drew  up,  and  glanced  at  me. 

"  You  will  see  there  is  much  to  be  done  with  such  fallows  as 
these,"  said  he.     "The  lessees  from  his  Lordship  were  sports- 


420  EICHARD   CARVEL 

men  rather  than  husbandmen,  and  had  an  antipathy  to  a  con- 
stable or  a  sheriff  like  a  rat  to  a  boar  cat.  That  is  the  curse 
of  some  of  your  Eastern  Shore  gentlemen,  especially  in  Dor- 
chester," he  added;  "they  get  to  be  fishmongers." 

Presently  we  came  in  sight  of  the  house,  long  and  low,  like 
the  one  in  Gloucester  Street,  with  a  new  and  unpainted  wing 
just  completed.  That  day  the  mist  softened  its  outline  and 
blurred  the  trees  which  clustered  about  it.  Even  as  we  swung 
into  the  circle  of  the  drive  a  rounded  and  youthful  figure  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway,  gave  a  little  cry,  and  stood  immovable. 
It  was  Patty,  in  a  striped  dimity  gown  with  the  sleeves 
rolled  up,  and  her  face  fairly  shcne  with  joy  as  I  leaped  from 
my  horse  and  took  her  hands. 

"  So  you  like  my  surprise,  girl  ? "  said  her  father,  as  he 
kissed  her  blushing  face. 

Eor  answer  she  tore  herself  away,  and  ran  through  the  hall 
to  the  broad  porch  in  front. 

"Our  barrister  is  come,  mother,"  we  heard  her  exclaiming, 
"  and  whom  do  you  think  he  has  brought  ?  " 

"  Is  it  Richard  ?  "  asked  the  gentler  voice,  more  hastily  than 
usual. 

I  stepped  out  on  the  porch,  where  the  invalid  sat  in  her  arm- 
chair. She  was  smiling  with  joy,  too,  and  she  held  out  her  wasted 
hands  and  drew  me  toward  her,  kissing  me  on  both  cheeks. 

"  I  thank  God  for  His  goodness,"  said  she. 

"  And  the  boy  has  come  to  stay,  mother,"  said  her  husband, 
as  he  stooped  over  her. 

"  To  stay  ! "  cries  Patty. 

"  Gordon's  Pride  is  henceforth  his  home,"  replied  the  barris- 
ter. "And  now  I  can  return  in  peace  to  my  musty  law,  and 
know  that  my  plantation  will  be  well  looked  after." 

Patty  gasped. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad !"  said  she,  "I  could  almost  rejoice  that 
nis  uncle  cheated  him  out  of  his  property.  He  is  to  be  factor 
of  Gordon's  Pride  ?  " 

"  He  is  to  be  master  of  Gordon's  Pride,  my  dear,"  says  her 
father,  smiling  and  tilting  her  chin ;  "  we  shall  have  no  such 
persons  as  factors  here." 


THE   HOUSE   OF  MEMORIES  421 

At  that  the  tears  forced  themselves  into  my  own  eyes.  I 
turned  away,  and  then  I  perceived  for  the  first  time  the  tall 
form  of  my  old  friend,  Percy  Singleton, 

"May  I,  too,  bid  you  welcome,  Richard,"  said  he,  in  his 
manly  way,  "and  rejoice  that  I  have  got  such  a  neighbour?" 

"  Thank  you,  Percy,"  I  answered.  I  was  not  in  a  state  to 
say  much  more. 

"  And  now,"  exclaims  Patty,  "  what  a  dinner  we  shall  have 
in  the  prodigal's  honour !  I  shall  make  you  all  some  of  the 
Naples  biscuit  Mrs.  Price  told  me  of." 

She  flew  into  the  house,  and  presently  we  heard  her  cleai 
voice  singing  in  the  kitchen. 


CHAPTER  XLVI 


Gordon's  pride 


The  years  of  a  man's  life  that  count  the  most  are  often 
those  which  may  be  passed  quickest  in  the  story  of  it.  And 
sol  may  hurry  over  the  first  years  I  spent  as  Mr.  Swain's 
factor  at  Gordon's  Pride.  The  task  that  came  to  my  hand  was 
heaven-sent. 

That  manor-house,  I  am  sure,  was  the  tidiest  in  all  Mary- 
land, thanks  to  Patty's  New  England  blood.  She  was  astir 
with  the  birds  of  a  morning,  and  near  the  last  to  retire  at 
night,  and  happy  as  the  days  were  long.  She  was  ever  up  to 
her  elbows  in  some  dish,  and  her  butter  and  her  biscuits  were 
the  best  in  the  province.  Little  she  cared  to  work  samplers, 
or  peacocks  in  pretty  wools,  tho'  in  some  way  she  found  the 
time  to  learn  the  spinet.  As  the  troubles  with  the  mother 
country  thickened,  she  took  to  a  foot-wheel,  and  often  in  the 
crisp  autumn  evenings  I  would  hear  the  bumping  of  it  as  I 
walked  to  the  house,  and  turn  the  knob  to  come  upon  her 
spinning  by  the  twilight.  She  would  have  no  English-made 
linen  in  that  household.  "If  mine  scratch  your  back,  Rich- 
ard," she  would  say,  ''you  must  grin  and  bear,  and  console 
yourself  with  your  virtue."  It  was  I  saw  to  the  flax,  and 
learned  from  Ivie  Rawlinson  (who  had  come  to  us  from  Car- 
vel Hall)  the  best  manner  to  ripple  and  break  and  swingle  it. 
And  Mr.  Swain,  in  imitation  of  the  high  example  set  by  Mr. 
Bordley,  had  buildings  put  up  for  wheels  and  the  looms,  and 
in  due  time  kept  his  own  sheep. 

If  man  or  woman,  white  or  black,  fell  sick  on  the  place,  it 
was  Patty  herself  who  tended  them.  She  knew  the  virtue  of 
every  herb  in  the  big  chest  in  the  storeroom.     And  at  table  she 

422 


GORDON'S   PRIDE  423 

presided  over  her  father's  guests  with  a  womanliness  that  won 
her  more  admiration  than  mine.  Now  that  the  barrister  was 
become  a  man  of  weight,  the  house  was  as  crowded  as  ever  was 
Carvel  Hall.  Carrolls  and  Facas  and  Dulanys  and  Johnsons, 
and  Lloyds  and  Bordleys  and  Brices  and  Scotts  and  Jennings 
and  Ridouts,  and  Colonel  Sharpe,  who  remained  in  the  prov- 
ince, and  many  more  families  of  prominence  which  I  have  not 
space  to  mention,  all  came. to  Gordon's  Pride.  Some  of  these,  as 
their  names  proclaim,  were  of  the  King's  side ;  but  the  bulk  of 
Mr.  Swain's  company  were  stanch  patriots,  and  toasted  Miss 
Patty  instead  of  his  Majesty.  By  this  I  do  not  mean  that 
they  lacked  loyalty,  for  it  is  a  matter  of  note  that  our  colony 
loved  King  George. 

I  must  not  omit  from  the  list  above  the  name  of  my  good 
friend.  Captain  Clapsaddle. 

Nor  was  there  lack  of  younger  company.  Betty  Tayloe, 
who  plied  me  with  questions  concerning  Dorothy  and  London, 
but  especially  about  the  dashing  and  handsome  Lord  Comyn  ; 
and  the  Dulany  girls,  and  I  know  not  how  many  others.  Will 
Fotheringay,  when  he  was  home  from  college,  and  Archie 
Brice,  and  Francis  Willard  (whose  father  was  now  in  the  As- 
sembly) and  half  a  dozen  more  to  court  Patty,  who  would  not 
so  much  as  look  at  them.  And  when  I  twitted  her  with  this 
she  would  redden  and  reply :  *'  I  was  created  for  a  housewife, 
sir,  and  not  to  make  eyes  from  behind  a  fan."  Indeed,  she 
was  at  her  prettiest  and  best  in  the  dimity  frock,  with  the 
sleeves  rolled  up. 

'Twas  a  very  merry  place,  the  manor  of  Gordon's  Pride. 
A  generous  bowl  of  punch  always  stood  in  the  cool  hall, 
through  which  the  south  winds  swept  from  off  the  water,  and 
fruit  and  sangaree  and  lemonade  were  on  the  table  there.  The 
manor  had  no  ball-room,  but  the  negro  fiddlers  played  in  the 
big  parlour.  And  the  young  folks  danced  till  supper  time.  Tn 
three  months  Patty's  suppers  grew  famous  in  a  colony  where 
there  was  no  lack  of  good  cooks. 

The  sweet-natured  invalid  enjoyed  these  festivities  in  her 
quiet  way,  and  often  pressed  me  to  partake.  So  did  Patty  beg 
me,  and  Mr.  Swain.     Perhaps  a  false  sense  of  pride  restrained 


424  RICHAED   CAEVEL 

me,  but  my  duties  held  me  all  day  in  the  field,  and  often  into  the 
night  when  there  was  curing  to  be  done,  or  some  other  matters 
of  necessity.  And  for  the  rest,  I  thought  I  detected  a  change 
in  the  tone  of  Mr.  Fotheringay,  and  some  others,  tho'  it  may 
have  been  due  to  sensibility  on  my  part.  I  would  put  up  with 
no  patronage. 

There  was  no  change  of  tone,  at  least,  with  the  elder  gentle- 
men. They  plainly  showed  me  an  added  respect.  And  so  I 
fell  into  the  habit,  after  my  work  was  over,  of  joining  them  in 
their  suppers  rather  than  the  sons  and  daughters.  There  I  was 
made  right  welcome.  The  serious  conversation  spiced  with  the 
wit  of  trained  barristers  and  men  of  affairs  better  suited  my 
changed  condition  of  life.  The  times  were  sober,  and  for  those 
who  could  see,  a  black  cloud  was  on  each  horizon.  'Twas  only 
a  matter  of  months  when  the  thunder-clap  was  to  come  —  indeed, 
enough  was  going  on  within  our  own  province  to  forebode 
a  revolution.  The  Assembly  to  which  many  of  these  gen- 
tlemen belonged  was  in  a  righteous  state  of  opposition  to  the 
Proprietary  and  the  Council  concerning  the  emoluments  of  colo- 
nial officers  and  of  clergymen.  Honest  Governor  Eden  had  the 
misfortune  to  see  the  justice  of  our  side,  and  was  driven  into 
a  seventh  state  by  his  attempts  to  square  his  conscience.  Bit- 
ter controversies  were  waging  in  the  Gazette,  and  names  were 
called  and  duels  fought  weekly.  Eor  our  cause  "The  First 
Citizen"  led  the  van,  and  the  able  arguments  and  moderate 
language  of  his  letters  scon  identified  him  as  Mr.  Charles  Car- 
roll of  Carrollton,  one  of  the  greatest  men  Maryland  has  ever 
known.  But  even  at  Mr.  Swain's,  amongst  his  few  intimate 
friends,  Mr.  Carroll  could  never  be  got  to  admit  his  7iO'in  de  guerre 
until  long  after  Antilon  had  been  beaten. 

I  write  it  with  pride,  that  at  ihese  suppers  I  was  sometimes 
asked  to  speak ;  and,  having  b'^-en  but  lately  to  England,  to  give 
my  opinion  upon  the  state  of  affairs  there.  Mr.  Carroll  hon- 
oured me  upon  two  occasions  with  his  confidence,  and  I  was  made 
clerk  to  a  little  club  they  had,  and  kept  the  minutes  in  my  own 
hand. 

I  went  about  in  homespun,  which,  if  good  enough  for  Mr. 
Bordley,  was  good  enough  for  me.     I  rode  with  him  over  the 


GORDON'S   PRIDE  425 

estate.  This  gentleman  was  the  most  accomplished  and  scien 
tific  farmer  we  had  in  the  province.  Hazing  inherited  his 
plantation  on  Wye  Island,  near  Carvel  Hall,  he  resigned  his 
dut'es  as  judge,  and  a  lucrative  practice,  to  turn  all  his  energies 
to  the  cultivation  of  the  soil.  His  wheat  was  as  eagerly  sought 
after  as  was  Colonel  Washington's  tobacco. 

It  was  to  Mr.  Bordley's  counsel  that  the  greater  part  of  my 
success  was  due.  He  taught  me  the  folly  of  ploughing  with  a 
fluke,  —  a  custom  to  which  the  Eastern  Shore  was  wedded,  — 
pointing  out  that  a  double  surface  was  thus  exposed  to  the 
sun's  rays  ;  and  explained  at  length  why  there  was  more  profit 
in  small  grain  in  that  district  than  heavy  tobacco.  He  gave 
me  Dr.  Eliot's  "Essays  on  Field  Husbandry,"  and  Mill's 
"  Ilusby,"  which  I  read  from  cover  to  cover.  And  I  went  from 
time  to  time  to  visit  him  at  Wye  Island,  when  he  would  canter 
with  me  over  that  magnificent  plantation,  and  show  me  with 
pride  the  finished  outcome  of  his  experiments. 

Mr.  Swain's  affairs  kept  him  in  town  the  greater  part 
of  the  twelve  months,  and  Mrs.  Swain  and  Patty  moved  to 
Annapolis  in  the  autumn.  But  for  three  years  I  was  at  Gor- 
don's Pride  winter  and  summer  alike.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
I  was  fortunate  enough  to  show  my  employer  such  substantial 
results  as  to  earn  his  commendation  —  ay,  and  his  confidence, 
which  was  the  highest  token  of  that  man's  esteem.  The 
moneys  of  the  estate  he  left  entirely  at  my  order.  And  in  the 
spring  of  '73,  when  the  opportunity  was  suddenly  offered  to 
buy  a  thousand  acres  of  excellent  wheat  land  adjoining,  I  made 
the  purchase  for  him  while  he  was  at  Williamsburg,  and  upon 
my  own  responsibility. 

This  connected  the  plantation  on  the  east  wich  Singleton's. 
It  had  been  my  secret  hope  that  the  two  estates  might  one  day 
be  joined  in  marriage.  For  of  all  those  who  came  a-courting 
Patty,  Percy  was  by  far  the  best.  He  was  but  a  difiident 
suitor  ;  he  would  sit  with  me  on  the  lawn  evening  after  even- 
ing, when  company  was  there,  while  Fotheringay  and  Francis 
Willard  made  their  compliments  within,  —  silly  flatteries,  at 
which  Patty  laughed. 

Percy  kept  his  hounds,  and  many  a  run  we  had  together  ir> 


426  RICHARD   CARVEL 

the  sparkling  days  that  followed  the  busy  summer,  when  the 
crops  were  safe  in  the  bottoms  ;  or  a  quiet  pipe  and  bottle  in 
his  bachelor's  hall,  after  a  soaking  on  the  duck  points. 

And  this  brings  me  to  a  subject  on  which  I  am  loth  to  write. 
Where  Mr.  Singleton  was  concerned,  Patty,  the  kindest  of 
creatures,  was  cruelty  itself.  Once,  when  I  had  the  effron- 
tery to  venture  a  word  in  his  behalf,  I  had  been  silenced 
so  effectively  as  to  make  my  ears  tingle.  A  thousand  little 
signs  led  me  to  a  conclusion  which  pained  me  more  than  I  can 
express.  Heaven  is  my  witness  that  no  baser  feeling  leads  me 
to  hint  of  it  here.  Every  day  while  the  garden  lasted  flowers 
were  in  my  room,  and  it  was  Banks  who  told  me  that  she 
would  allow  no  other  hands  than  her  own  to  place  them  by  my 
bed.  He  got  a  round  rating  from  me  for  violating  the  pledge 
of  secrecy  he  had  given  her.  It  was  Patty  who  made  my 
shirts,  and  on  Christmas  knitted  me  something  of  comfort; 
who  stood  on  the  horse-block  in  the  early  morning  waving  after 
me  as  I  rode  away,  and  at  my  coming  her  eyes  would  kindle 
with  a  light  not  to  be  mistaken. 

None  of  these  things  were  lost  upon  Percy  Singleton,  and  I 
often  wondered  why  he  did  not  hate  me.  He  was  of  the  kind 
that  never  shows  a  hurt.  Force  of  habit  still  sent  him  to  Gor- 
don's Pride,  but  for  days  he  would  have  nothing  to  say  to  the 
mistress  of  it,  or  she  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

VISITORS 

It  was  not  often  that  Mr.  Thomas  Swain  honoured  Gordon's 
Pride  with  his  presence.  He  vowed  that  the  sober  Whig  com- 
pany his  father  brought  there  gave  him  the  vapours.  He 
snapped  his  fingers  at  the  articles  of  the  Patriots'  Association, 
and  still  had  his  cocked  hats  and  his  Brussels  lace  and  his  spy- 
glass, and  his  top  boots  when  he  rode  abroad,  like  any  other 
Tory  buck.  His  intimates  were  all  of  the  King's  side,  —  of 
the  worst  of  the  King's  side,  I  should  say,  for  I  would  not  be 
thought  to  cast  any  slur  on  the  great  number  of  conscientious 
men  of  that  party.  But,  being  the  son  of  one  of  the  main  props 
of  the  Whigs,  Mr.  Tom  went  unpunished  for  his  father's  sake. 
He  was  not  uncondemned. 

Up  to  1774,  the  times  that  Mr,  Swain  mentioned  his  son  to 
me  might  be  counted  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand.  It  took  not  a 
great  deal  of  shrewdness  to  guess  that  he  had  paid  out  many  a 
pretty  sum  to  keep  Tom's  honour  bright :  as  bright,  at  least,  as 
such  doubtful  metal  would  polish.  Tho'  the  barrister  sought 
my  ear  in  many  matters,  I  never  heard  a  whimper  out  of  him 
on  this  score. 

Master  Tom  had  no  ambition  beyond  that  of  being  a  maca- 
roni ;  his  easy-going  nature  led  him  to  avoid  alike  trouble  and 
responsibility.  Hence  he  did  not  bother  his  head  concerning 
my  position.  He  appeared  well  content  that  I  should  make 
money  out  of  the  plantation  for  him  to  spend.  His  visits  to 
Gordon's  Pride  were  generally  in  the  late  autiinin,  and  he 
brought  his  own  company  with  him.  I  recall  vividly  his  third 
or  fourth  appearance,  in  October  of  '73.  Well  I  may !  The 
family  was  preparing  to  go  to  town,  and  this  year  I  was  to  foh 

427 


428  RICHARD   CARVEL 

low  them,  and  take  from  Mr.  Swain's  shoulders  some  of  hia 
private  business,  for  he  had  been  ailing  a  little  of  late  from 
overwork. 

The  day  of  which  I  have  spoken  a  storm  had  set  in,  the  rain 
falling  in  sheets.  I  had  been  in  the  saddle  since  breakfast, 
seeing  to  an  hundred  repairs  that  had  to  be  made  before  the 
cold  weather.  'Twas  near  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  when  I 
pulled  up  before  the  weaving  house.  The  looms  were  still,  and 
Patty  met  me  at  the  door  with  a  grave  look,  which  I  knew  por- 
tended something.     But  her  first  words  were  of  my  comfort. 

"  Richard,  will  you  ever  learn  sense  ?  You  have  been  wet 
all  day  long,  and  have  missed  your  dinner.  Go  at  once  and 
change  your  clothes,  sir !  "  she  commanded  severely. 

"  I  have  first  to  look  at  the  warehouse,  where  the  roof  is 
leaking,"  I  expostulated. 

"  You  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  replied  she, ''  but  dry  yourself, 
and  march  into  the  dining  room.  We  have  had  the  ducks  you 
shot  yesterday,  and  some  of  your  experimental  hominy  ;  but 
they  are  all  gone." 

I  knew  well  she  had  laid  aside  for  me  some  dainty,  as  was 
her  habit.  I  dismounted.  She  gave  me  a  quick,  troubled 
glance,  and  said  in  a  low  voice :  — 

"  Tom  is  come.  And  oh,  [  dare  not  tell  you  ivhom  be  has 
jvith  him  now  !  " 

"  Courtenay  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,  of  course.  I  hate  the  sight  of  the  man.  But  your 
cousin,  Philip  Carvel,  is  hfere,  Richard.  Father  will  be  very 
angry.     And  they  are  making  a  drinking-tavern  of  the  house." 

I  gave  Firefly  a  slap  that  sent  her  trotting  stable-ward,  and 
walked  rapidly  to  the  house.  I  found  the  three  of  them  drink- 
ing in  the  hall,  the  punch  spiliCd  over  the  table,  and  staining 
the  cards. 

"  Gad's  life  ! "  cries  Tom,  "  here  comes  Puritan  Richard,  in 
his  broad  rim.  How  goes  the  crop,  Richard?  'Twill  have  to 
go  well,  egad,  for  I  lost  an  hundred  at  the  South  River  Club 
last  week  ! " 

Next  him  sat  Philip,  whom  I  had  not  seen  since  before  I 
was  carried  off.    He  was  lately  come  home  from  King's  College 


VISITORS  429 

and  very  mysteriously,  his  father  giving  out  that  his  health 
was  not  all  it  should  be.  He  had  not  gained  Grafton's  height, 
but  he  was  broader,  and  his  face  had  something  in  it  of  his 
father.  He  had  his  mother's  under  lip  and  complexion.  Graf- 
ton was  sallow ;  Philip  was  a  peculiar  pink,  —  not  the  ruddy 
pink  of  heartier  natures,  like  my  grandfather's,  nor  yet  had  he 
the  peach-like  skin  of  Mr.  Dix.  Philip's  was  a  darker  and 
more  solid  colour,  and  I  have  never  seen  man  or  woman  with 
it  and  not  mistrustedthem.  He  wore  a  red  velvet  coat  embroid- 
ered with  gold,  and  as  costly  ruffles  as  I  had  ever  seen  in  Lon- 
don. But  for  all  this  my  cousin  had  a  coarse  look,  and  his 
polished  blue  flints  of  eyes  were  those  of  a  coarse  man. 

He  got  to  his  feet  as  Tom  spoke,  looking  anywhere  but  at 
me,  and  came  forward  slowly.  He  was  loyal  to  no  one,  was 
Philip,  not  even  to  his  father.  When  he  was  got  within  three 
paces  he  halted. 

"  How  do  you,  cousin  ?  "  says  he. 

"  A  little  wet,  as  you  perceive,  Philip,"  I  replied. 

I  left  him  and  stood  before  the  tire,  my  rough  wool  steaming 
in  the  heat.  He  sat  down  again,  a  little  awkwardly ;  and  the 
situation  began  to  please  me  better. 

"  How  do  you  ?  "  I  asked  presently. 

"I  have  got  a  devilish  cold,"  said  he.  "Faith,  I'll  ivarrant 
the  doctor  will  be  sworn  I  have  been  but  indifferent  company 
since  we  left  the  Hall.     Eh,  doctor  ?  " 

Courtenay,  with  his  feet  stretched  out,  bestowed  an  amiable 
but  languid  wink  upon  me,  as  much  as  to  say  that  I  knew 
what  Mr.  Philip's  company  was  at  best.  When  I  came  out 
after  my  dinner,  they  were  still  sitting  there,  Courtenay  yawn- 
ing, and  Tom  and  Philip  wrangling  over  last  night's  play. 

"  Come,  my  man  of  affairs,  join  us  a  hand  !  "  says  the  doctor 
to  me.  "  I  have  known  the  time  when  you  would  sit  from 
noon  until  supper." 

"  I  had  monev  then,"  said  I. 

"  And  you  have  a  little  now,  or  I  am  cursed  badly  mistook. 
Oons  !  what  do  you  fear  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  "  you  that  have 
played  with  March  and  Fox  ?  " 

"I  fear  nothing,  doctor,"  I  answered,  smiling.     "But  a  man 


430  RICHARD   CARVEL 

must  have  a  sorry  honour  when  he  will  win  fifty  pounds  with 
but  ten  of  capital." 

"  One  of  Dr.  Franklin's  maxims,  I  presume,"  says  he,  with 
sarcasm. 

"  And  if  it  were,  it  could  scarce  be  more  pat,"  I  retorted. 
II  j-ji^g  Poor  Richard's  maxim." 

"  0  lud !  O  my  soul ! "  cries  Tom,  with  a  hiccup  and  a  snig- 
ger; "'tis  time  you  made  another  grand  tour,  Courtenay. 
Here's  the  second  Whig  has  got  in  on  you  within  the 
week ! " 

"  I  thank  God  they  have  not  got  me  down  to  osnabrig  and 
bumbo  yet,"  replies  the  doctor.  Coming  over  to  me  by  the 
fire,  he  tapped  my  sleeve  and  added  in  a  low  tone  :  "  Forbear- 
ance with  such  a  pair  of  asses  is  enough  to  make  a  man  shed 
bitter  tears.  But  a  little  of  it  is  necessary  to  keep  out  of 
debt.  You  and  I  will  play  together,  against  both  the  lambs, 
Richard.     One  of  them  is  not  far  from  maudlin  now." 

"Thank  you,  doctor,"  I  answered  politely,  "but  I  have  a 
better  way  to  make  my  living."  In  three  years  I  had  learned 
a  little  to  control  my  temper. 

He  shrugged  his  thin  shoulders.  "  Eh  Men,  mon  bon,"  says 
he,  "  I  dare  swear  you  know  your  own  game  better  than  do  I." 
And  he  cast  a  look  up  the  stairs,  of  which  I  quite  missed  the 
meaning.  Indeed,  I  was  wholly  indifferent.  The  doctor  and 
his  like  had  passed  out  of  my  life,  and  I  believed  they  were 
soon  to  disappear  from  our  Western  Hemisphere.  The  report 
I  had  heard  was  now  confirmed,  that  his  fortune  was  dissi- 
pated, and  ^,hat  he  lived  entirely  off  these  young  rakes  who 
aspired  to  be  macaronies. 

"  Since  your  factor  is  become  a  damned  Lutheran,  Tom," 
said  he,  returning  to  the  table  and  stripping  a  pack,  "it  will 
have  to  be  picquet.  You  promised  me  we  could  count  on  a 
fourth,  or  I  had  never  left  Inman's." 

It  was  Tom,  as  I  had  feared,  who  sat  down  unsteadily  oppo- 
site. Philip  lounged  and  Avatched  them  sulkily,  snuffing  and 
wheezing  and  dipping  into  the  bowl,  and  cursing  the  house  for 
a  draughty  barn.  I  took  a  pipe  on  the  settle  to  see  what 
would  come  of  it.     I  was  not  surprised  that  Courtenay  lost  at 


VISITORS  431 

first,  and  that  Tom  drank  the  most  of  the  punch.  Nor  was  it 
above  half  an  hour  before  the  stakes  were  raised  and  the  tide 
began  to  turn  in  the  doctor's  favour. 

*'A  plague  of  you,  Courtenay!"  cries  Mr.  Tom,  at  lengthy 
flinging  down  the  cards.  His  voice  was  thick,  while  the 
Selwyn  of  Annapolis  was  never  soberer  in  his  life.  Tom  ap 
pealed  first  to  Philip  for  the  twenty  pounds  he  owed  him. 

"  You  know  how  damned  stingy  my  father  is,  curse  you," 
whined  my  cousin,  in  return.  "I  told  you  I  should  not  have 
it  till  the  first  of  the  month." 

Tom  swore  back.  He  thrust  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets 
and  sank  into  that  attitude  of  dejection  common  to  drunkards. 
Suddenly  he  pulled  himself  up. 

"  'Shblood !  Here's  Richard  t'  draw  from.  Lemma  have 
fifty  pounds,  Richard." 

"  Not  a  farthing,"  I  said,  unmoved. 

"You  say  wha'  shall  be  done  with  my  father's  money!" 
he  cried.  "  I  call  tha'  damned  cool  —  Gad's  life !  I  do.  Eh, 
Courtenay  ?  " 

Courtenay  had  the  sense  not  to  interfere. 

"  I'll  have  you  dishcharged.  Gad's  death !  so  I  will ! "  he 
shouted.  "  No  damned  airs  wi'  me,  Mr.  Carvel.  I'll  have  you 
know  you're  not  wha'  you  once  were,  but  only  a  cursht  over- 
sheer." 

He  struggled  to  his  feet,  forgot  his  wrath  on  the  instant,  and 
began  to  sing  drunkenly  the  words  of  a  ribald  air.  I  took 
him  by  both  shoulders  and  pushed  him  back  into  his  chair. 

"Be quiet,"  I  said  sternly;  "while  your  mother  and  sister 
are  here  you  shall  not  insult  them  with  such  a  song."  He 
ceased,  astonished.  "And  as  for  you,  gentlemen,"  I  con- 
tinued, "you  should  know  better  than  to  make  a  place  of  re- 
sort out  of  a  gentleman's  house." 

Courtenay's  voice  broke  the  silence  that  followed. 

"  Of  all  the  cursed  impertinences  I  ever  saw,  egad ! "  he 
drawled.  "'  Is  this  your  manor,  Mr.  Carvel  ?  Or  have  you  a 
seat  in  Kent  ?  " 

I  would  not  have  it  in  black  and  white  that  I  am  an  advo- 
cate of  fighting.     But  at  that  moment  I  was   in   the   mood 


432  RICHARD   CARVEL 

when  it  does  not  matter  miich  one  way  or  the  other.  The 
drunken  man  carried  us  past  the  point. 

"The  damned  in-intriguing  rogue'sh  worked  himself  into 
my  father's  grashes,"  he  said,  counting  out  his  words.  "  He'sh 
no  more  Whig  than  me.  I  know'sh  game,  Courtenay  —  he 
wants  t'  marry  Patty.     Thisli  place'll  be  hers." 

The  effect  upon  me  of  these  words,  with  all  their  hideous 
implication  of  gossip  and  scandal,  was  for  an  instant  benumb- 
ing. The  interpretation  of  the  doctor's  innuendo  struck  me 
then.  I  was  starting  forward,  with  a  hand  open  to  clap  over 
Tom's  mouth,  when  I  saw  the  laugh  die  on  Courtenay's  face, 
and  him  come  bowing  to  his  legs.     I  turned  with  a  start. 

On  the  stairs  stood  Patty  herself,  pale  as  marble. 

"  Come  with  me,  Tom,"  she  said. 

He  had  obeyed  her  from  childhood.  This  time  he  tried,  and 
failed  miserably. 

"  Beg  pardon,  Patty,"  he  stammered,  "  no  offensh  meant. 
Tliish  factor  thinks  h'  ownsh  Gordon's  now.  I  say,  not'll  h' 
marries  you.  Good  fellow,  Richard,  but  infernal  forward. 
Eh,  Courtenay  ?  " 

Philip  turned  away,  while  the  doctor  pretended  to  examine 
the  silver  punch-ladle.  As  for  me,  I  could  only  stare.  It  was 
Patty  who  kept  her  head,  and  made  us  a  stately  curtsey. 

"  Will  you  do  me  the  kindness,  gentlemen,"  said  she,  "  to 
leave  me  with  my  brother  ? " 

We  walked  silently  into  the  parlour,  and  I  closed  the 
door. 

" '  Slif e ! "  cried  Courtenay,  "  she's  a  vision.  What  say  you, 
Philip  ?  And  I  might  see  her  in  that  guise  again,  egad,  I  would 
forgive  Tom  his  five  hundred  crowns !  " 

"  A  buxom  vision,"  agreed  my  cousin,  "  but  I  vow  I  like  'em 
so."     He  had  forgotten  his  cold. 

"  This  conversation  is  all  of  a  piece  with  the  rest  of  your 
conduct,"  said  I,  hotly. 

The  candles  were  burning  brightly  in  the  sconces.  The 
doctor  walked  to  the  glass,  took  snuff,  and  brushed  his  waist- 
coat before  he  answered. 

''■  Sure,  a  fortune  lies  under  every  virtue  we  assume,''  b** 


VISITORS  433 

recited.  "But  she  is  not  for  you,  Richard,"  says  he,  tapping 
his  box. 

"Mr.  Carvel,  if  you  please,"  I  replied.  I  felt  the  demon 
within  rae.  But  I  had  the  sense  to  realize  that  a  quarrel  with 
Dr.  Courtenay,  under  the  circumstances,  would  be  far  from  wise. 
He  had  no  intention  of  quarrelling,  however.  He  made  me  a 
grand  bow. 

"  Mr.  Carvel,  your  very  obedient.  Hereafter  I  shall  know 
better  than  to  forget  myself  with  an  overseer."  And  he  gave 
me  his  back.     "  What  say  you  to  a  game  of  billiards,  Philip  ?" 

Philip  seemed  glad  to  escape.  And  soon  I  heard  their  voices, 
mingling  with  the  click  of  the  balls.  There  followed  for  me 
one  of  the  bitterest  half  hours  I  have  had  in  my  life.  Then 
Patty  opened  the  hall  dooi*. 

"  Will  you  come  in  for  a  moment,  Richard  ? "  she  said, 
quite  calmly. 

I  followed  her,  wondering  at  the  masterful  spirit  she  had 
shown.  For  there  was  Tom  all  askew  in  his  chair,  his  feet 
one  way  and  his  hands  another,  totally  subdued.  What  was 
most  to  the  point,  he  made  me  an  elaborate  apology.  How  she 
had  sobered  his  mind  I  know  not.  His  body  was  as  helpless 
as  the  day  he  was  born. 

Long  before  the  guests  thought  of  rising  the  next  morning, 
Patty  came  to  me  as  I  was  having  the  mare  saddled.  The  sun 
was  up,  and  the  clouds  were  being  chased,  like  miscreants  who 
have  played  their  prank,  and  were  now  running  for  it.  The 
sharp  air  brought  the  red  into  her  cheeks.  And  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life  with  me  she  showed  shyness.  She  glanced  up 
into  my  face,  and  then  down  at  the  leaves  running  on  the 
ground. 

"  I  hope  they  will  go  to-day,"  said  she,  when  I  was  ready  to 
mount. 

I  began  to  tighten  the  girths,  venting  my  feelings  on  Pirefly 
until  the  animal  swung  around  and  made  a  vicious  pass  at  my 
arm. 

"  Richard ! " 

«  Yes." 

"  You  will  not  worry  over  that  senseless  speech  of  Tom's  ?  " 
2f 


434  EICHARD   CARVEL 

"  I  see  it  in  a  properer  light  now,  Patty,"  I  replied.  "  We 
usually  do  —  in  the  morning." 

She  sighed. 

"You  are  so  high-strung,"  she  said,  "I  was  afraid  jou 
would  —  " 

"I  would  —  ?" 

She  did  not  answer  until  I  had  repeated. 

"  I  was  very  silly,"  she  said  slowly,  her  colour  mounting 
even  higher,  "I  was  afraid  that  you  would  —  leave  us."  Strok- 
ing the  mare's  neck,  and  with  a  little  halt  in  her  voice,  "  I  do 
not  know  what  we  should  do  without  you." 

Indeed,  I  was  beginning  to  think  I  would  better  leave,  though 
where  I  should  go  was  more  than  I  could  say.  With  a  quick 
intuition  she  caught  my  hand  as  I  put  foot  in  the  stirrup. 

"  You  will  not  go  away  ! "  she  cried.  "  Say  you  will  not ! 
What  would  poor  father  do  ?  He  is  not  so  well  as  he  used 
to  be." 

The  wild  appeal  in  her  eyes  frightened  me.  It  was  beyond 
resisting.     In  great  agitation  I  put  my  foot  to  the  ground  again. 

''Patty,  I  should  be  a  graceless  scamp  in  truth,"  I  exclaimed. 
"  I  do  not  forget  that  your  father  gave  me  a  home  when  mine 
was  taken  away,  and  has  made  me  one  of  his  family.  I  shall 
thank  God  if  I  can  but  lighten  some  of  his  burdens." 

But  they  did  not  depart  that  day,  nor  the  next ;  nor,  indeed, 
for  a  week  after.  For  Philip's  cold  brought  on  a  high  fever. 
He  stuck  to  his  bed,  and  Patty  herself  made  broth  and  dainties 
for  him,  and  prescribed  him  medicine  out  of  the  oak  chest 
whence  had  come  so  much  comfort.  At  first  Philip  thought 
he  would  die,  and  forswore  wme  and  cards,  and  some  other 
things  the  taste  for  which  he  had  cultivated,  and  likewise  worse 
vices  that  had  come  to  him  by  nature. 

I  am  greatly  pleased  to  write  that  the  stay  profited  the  gal- 
lant Dr.  Courtenay  nothing.  Patt3^'s  mature  beauty  and  her 
manner  of  carrying  off  the  episode  in  the  hall  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  the  Censor.  I  read  the  man's  mind  in  his  eye  ; 
here  was  a  match  to  mend  his  fortunes,  and  do  him  credit 
besides.  However,  his  wit  and  his  languishing  glances  and 
double  meanings  fell  on  barren  ground.     No  tire-woman  on  the 


VISITORS  435 

plantation  was  busier  than  Patty  during  the  first  few  days  of 
his  stay.  After  that  he  grew  sulky  and  vented  his  spleen  on 
pool-  Tom,  winning  more  money  from  him  at  billiards  and 
picquet.  Since  the  doctor  was  too  much  the  macaroni  to  ride 
to  hounds  and  to  shoot  ducks,  time  began  to  hang  exceeding 
heavy  on  his  hands. 

Patty  and  I  had  many  a  quiet  laugh  over  his  predicament. 
And,  to  add  zest  to  the  situation,  I  informed  Singleton  lof  what 
was  going  forward.  He  came  over  every  night  for  supper, 
and  to  my  delight  the  bluff  Englishman  was  received  in  a 
fashion  to  make  the  doctor  writhe  and  snort  with  mortiiication. 
Never  in  his  life  had  he  been  so  insignificant  a  person.  And 
he,  whose  conversation  was  so  sought  after  in  the  gay  season 
in  town,  was  thrown  for  companionship  upon  a  scarce-grown 
boy  whose  talk  was  about  as  salted,  and  whose  intellect  as 
great,  as  those  of  the  cockerouse  in  our  fable.  He  stood  it 
about  a  se'nnight,  at  the  end  of  which  s^jace  Philip  was  put 
on  his  horse,  will-he-nill-he,  and  made  to  ride  northward. 

I  sat  with  my  cousin  of  an  evening  as  he  lay  in  bed.  Not,  I 
own,  from  any  charity  on  my  part,  but  from  other  motives 
which  do  me  no  credit.  The  first  niglit  he  confessed  his  sins, 
and  they  edified  me  not  a  little.  On  the  second  he  was  well 
enough  to  sit  up  and  swear,  and  to  vow  that  Miss  Swain  was 
an  angel ;  that  he  would  marry  her  the  very  next  week  and 
his  father  Grafton  were  not  such  a  stickler  for  family. 

"Curse  him,"  says  his  dutiful  and  loyal  son,  "he  is  so  bally 
stingy  with  my  stipend  that  I  am  in  debt  to  half  the  province. 
And  I  say  it  myself,  Richard,  he  has  been  a  blackguard  to  you, 
tho'  I  allow  him  some  little  excuse.  You  were  faring  better 
now,  my  dear  cousin,  and  you  had  not  given  him  every  reason 
to  hate  you.  For  I  have  heard  him  declare  more  than  once  — 
'pon  my  soul,  I  have — that  he  would  rather  you  were  his 
friend  than  his  enemy." 

My  contempt  for  Philip  kept  me  silent  here.  I  might  quar- 
rel with  Grafton,  who  had  sense  enough  to  feel  pain  at  a  well- 
deserved  thrust.  Philip  had  not  the  intelligence  to  recognize 
insult  from  compliment.  It  was  but  natural  he  should  mistake 
my  attitude  now.     He  leaned  forward  in  his  bed. 


436  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Hark  you,  Richard,"  whispers  he,  with  a  glance  at  the 
door,  "  I  might  tell  you  some  things  and  I  chose,  and  —  and  it 
were  worth  my  while." 

"  Worth  your  while  ?  "  I  repeated  vaguely. 

He  traced  nervously  the  figures  on  the  counterpane.  Next 
came  a  rush  of  anger  to  redden  his  face. 

"  By  Gad,  I  will  tell  you.  Swear  to  Gad  I  will."  Then,  the 
little  cunning  inherited  from  his  father  asserting  itself,  he 
added,  "  Look  you,  Richard,  I  am  the  son  of  one  of  the  richest 
men  in  the  colony,  and  I  get  the  pittance  of  a  backwoods  pastor. 
I  tell  you  'tis  not  to  be  borne  with.  And  I  am  not  of  as  much 
consideration  at  the  Hall  as  Brady,  the  Irish  convict,  who  has 
become  overseer." 

I  little  wondered  at  this.  Philip  sank  back,  and  for  some 
moments  eyed  me  between  narrowed  lids.  He  continued  pres- 
ently with  shortened  breath  :  — 

"  I  have  evidence  —  I  have  evidence  to  get  you  back  a  good 
share  of  the  estate,  which  my  father  will  never  miss.  And  I 
will  do  it,"  he  cries,  suddenly  bold,  "  I  will  do  it  for  three  thou- 
sand pounds  down  when  you  receive  it." 

This  was  why  he  had  come  with  Tom  to  Talbot !  I  was  so 
dumfounded  that  my  speech  was  quite  taken  away.  Then  I  got 
up  and  began  pacing  the  room.  Was  it  not  fair  to  fight  a  scoun- 
drel with  his  own  weapons  ?  Here  at  last  was  the  witness  Mr. 
Swain  had  been  seeking  so  long,  come  of  his  own  free  will. 
Then  —  Heaven  help  me  !  —  my  mind  flew  on.  As  time  had 
passed  I  had  more  than  once  regretted  refusing  the  Kent  plan- 
tation, which  had  put  her  from  whom  my  thought  never  wan- 
dered within  my  reach  again.  Good  Mr.  Swain  had  erred  for 
once.  'Twas  foolish,  indeed,  not  to  accept  a  portion  of  what 
was  rightfully  mine,  when  no  more  could  be  got.  And  now,  if 
what  Philip  said  was  true  (and  I  doubted  it  not),  here  at  last 
was  the  chance  come  again  to  win  her  without  whom  I  should 
never  be  happy.     I  glanced  at  my  cousin. 

"  Gad's  life !  "  says  he,  "  it  is  cheap  enough.  I  might  have 
asked  you  double." 

"  So  you  might,  and  have  been  refused,"  I  cried  hotly.  For 
I  believe  that  speech  of  his  recalled  me  to  my  senses.     It  has 


VISITORS  437 

ever  been  an  instinct  with  me  that  no  real  prosperity  comes 
out  of  double-dealing.  And  commerce  with  such  a  sneak 
sickened  me.  "  Go  back  to  your  father,  Philip,  and  threaten 
him,  and  he  may  make  you  rich.  Such  as  he  live  by  blackmail. 
And  you  may  add,  and  you  will,  that  the  day  of  retribution  is 
coming  for  him." 


CHAPTER   XLVIII 

MULTUM    IN    PARVO 

I  LOST  no  time  after  getting  to  Annapolis  in  confiding  to  Mr. 
SAvain  the  conversation  I  had  had  with  my  cousin  Philip. 
And  I  noticed,  as  he  sat  listening  to  my  account  in  the  library 
in  Gloucester  Street,  that  the  barrister  looked  very  worn.  He 
had  never  been  a  strong  man,  and  the  severe  strain  he  had 
been  under  with  the  patriots'  business  was  beginning  to  tell. 

He  was  very  thoughtful  when  I  had  finished,  and  then  told 
me  briefly  that  I  had  done  well  not  to  take  the  offer.  "  Tucker 
would  have  made  but  short  work  of  such  evidence,  my  lad," 
said  he,  "  and  I  think  Master  Philip  would  have  lied  himself 
in  and  out  a  dozen  times.  I  cannot  think  what  witness  he 
would  have  introduced  save  Mr.  Allen.  And  there  is  scarcely 
a  doubt  that  your  uncle  pays  him  for  his  silence,  for  I  am  told 
he  is  living  in  Frederick  in  a  manner  far  above  what  he 
gets  from  the  parish.  However,  Philip  has  given  us  some- 
thing more  to  work  on.  It  may  be  that  he  can  put  hands 
on  the  messenger." 

I  rose  to  go. 

"  We  shall  bring  them  to  earth  yet,  Eichard,  and  I  live," 
he  added.  *'  And  I  have  always  meant  to  ask  you  whether 
you  ever  regretted  your  decision  in  taking  Gordon's  Pride." 

"And  you  live,  sir  ! "  I  exclaimed,  not  heeding  the  question. 

He  smiled  somewhat  sadly. 

"  Of  one  thing  I  am  sure,  my  lad,"  he  continued,  "  which  is 
that  I  have  had  no  regrets  about  taking  you.  Mr.  Bordley 
has  just  been  here,  and  tells  me  you  are  the  ablest  young  man 
in  the  province.  You  see  that  more  eyes  than  mine  are 
upon  you.     You  have  proved  yourself   a  man,  Richard,   and 

438 


MULTUM   m   PARVO  439 

there  are  very  few  macaronies  would  have  done  as  you  did.  I 
am  resolved  to  add  another  little  mite  to  your  salary." 

The  "  little  luite  "  was  of  such  a  substantial  nature  that  I 
protested  strongly  against  it.  I  thought  of  Tom's  demands 
upon  him. 

"  I  could  afford  to  give  you  double  for  what  you  have  made 
off  the  place,"  he  interrupted.  "  But  I  do  not  believe  in 
young  men  having  too  much."  He  sighed,  and  turned  to  his 
work. 

I  hesitated.  "You  have  spent  time  and  labour  upon  my 
case,  sir,  and  have  asked  no  fee." 

"I  shall  speak  of  the  fee  when  I  win  it,"  he  said  dryly, 
"  and  not  before.  How  would  you  like  to  be  clerk  this  win- 
ter to  the  Committee  of  Correspondence  ?  " 

I  suppose  my  pleasure  was  expressed  in  my  face. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  have  got  you  the  appointment  without 
much  difficulty.  There  are  many  ways  in  which  you  can  be 
useful  to  the  party  when  not  helping  me  with  my  affairs." 

This  conversation  gave  me  food  for  reflection  during  a  week. 
I  was  troubled  about  Mr.  Swain,  and  what  he  had  said  as  to 
not  living  kept  running  in  my  head  as  I  wrote  or  figured.  For 
I  had  enough  to  hold  me  busy. 

In  the  meantime,  the  clouds  fast  gathering  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantic  grew  blacker,  and  blacker  still.  I  saw  a  great 
change  in  Annapolis.  Men  of  aifairs  went  about  with  grave 
faces,  while  gay  and  sober  alike  were  touched  b}'  the  spell.  The 
Tory  gentry,  to  be  sure,  rattled  about  in  their  gilded  mahogany 
coaches,  in  spite  of  jeers  and  sour  looks.  My  Aunt  Caroline 
wore  jewelled  stomachers  to  the  assemblies,  —  now  become  dry 
and  shrivelled  entertainments.  She  kept  her  hairdresser,  had 
three  men  in  livery  to  her  chair,  and  a  little  negro  in  Turk's 
costume  to  wait  on  her.  I  often  met  her  in  the  streets,  and 
took  a  fierce  joy  in  staring  her  in  the  eye.  And  Grafton !  By 
a  sort  of  fate  I  was  continually  running  against  him.  He  was 
a  very  busy  man,  was  my  uncle,  and  had  a  kind  of  dignified 
run,  which  he  used  between  Marlboro'  Street  and  the  Council 
Chamber  in  the  Stadt  House,  or  the  Governor's  mansion.  He 
never  did  me  the  honour  to  glance  at  me.    The  Rev.  Mr.  Allen, 


440  RICHARD   CARVEL 

too,  came  a-visiting  from  Frederick,  where  he  had  grown  stout 
as  an  alderman  upon  the  living  and  its  perquisites  and  Graf- 
ton's additional  bounty.  The  gossips  were  busy  with  his 
doings,  for  he  had  his  travelling-coach  and  servant  now.  He 
went  to  the  Tory  balls  with  my  aunt.  Once  I  all  but  encoun- 
tered him  on  the  Circle,  but  he  ran  into  Northeast  Street  to 
avoid  me. 

Yes,  that  was  the  winter  when  the  wise  foresaw  the  inevita- 
ble, and  the  first  sharp  split  occurred  between  men  who  had 
been  brothers.  The  old  order  of  things  had  plainly  passed, 
and  I  was  truly  thankful  that  my  grandfather  had  not  lived  to 
witness  those  scenes.  The  greater  part  of  our  gentry  stood 
firm  for  America's  rights,  and  they  had  behind  them  the  best 
lawyers  in  America.  After  the  lawyers  came  the  small  planters 
and  most  of  the  mechanics.  The  shopkeepers  formed  the  back- 
bone of  King  G  eorge's  adherents ;  the  Tory  gentry,  the  clergy, 
and  those  holding  office  under  the  proprietor  made  the  rest. 

And  it  was  all  about  tea,  a  word  which,  since  '67,  had  been 
steadily  becoming  the  most  vexed  in  the  language.  The  East 
India  Company  had  put  forth  a  complaint.  They  had 
Heaven  knows  how  many  tons  getting  stale  in  London  ware- 
houses, all  by  reason  of  our  stubbornness,  and  so  it  was  enacted 
that  all  tea  paying  the  small  American  tax  should  have  a 
rebate  of  the  English  duties.  That  was  truly  a  master-stroke, 
for  Parliament  to  give  it  us  cheaper  than  it  could  be  had  at 
home !  To  cause  his  Majesty's  government  to  lose  revenues 
for  the  sake  of  being  able  to  say  they  had  caught  and  taxed  us 
at  last !  The  happy  result  is  now  history,  my  dears.  And  this 
is  not  a  history,  tho'  I  wish  it  were.  What  occurred  at  Bos- 
ton, at  Philadelphia,  and  Charleston,  has  since  caused  English- 
men, as  well  as  Americans,  to  feel  proud.  The  chief  incident 
in  Annapolis  I  shall  mention  in  another  chapter. 

When  it  became  known  with  us  that  several  cargoes  were  on 
their  way  to  the  colonies,  excitement  and  indignation  gained 
a  pitch  not  reached  since  the  Stamp  Act.  Business  came  to  a 
standstill,  plantations  lay  idle,  and  gentry  and  farmers  flocked  to 
Annapolis,  and  held  meetings  and  made  resolutions  anew.  On 
ray  way  of  a  morning  from  Mr.  Swain's  house  to  his  chambers 


MULTUM   IN   PARVO  441 

in  the  Circle  I  would  meet  as  many  as  a  dozen  knots  of  people. 
Mr.  Claude  was  one  of  the  few  patriots  who  reaped  reward  out 
of  the  disturbance,  for  his  inn  was  crowded.  The  Assembly 
met,  appointed  committees  to  correspond  with  the  other  colo- 
nies, and  was  prorogued  once  and  again.  Many  a  night  I 
sat  up  until  the  small  hours  copying  out  letters  to  the 
committees  of  Virginia,  and  Pennsylvania,  and  Massachusetts. 
The  gentlemen  were  wont  to  dine  at  the  Coffee  House,  and  I 
would  sit  near  the  foot  of  the  table,  taking  notes  of  their  plans. 
'Twas  so  I  met  many  men  of  distinction  from  the  other  colo- 
nies. Colonel  Washington  came  once.  He  was  grown  a  greater 
man  than  ever,  and  I  thought  him  graver  than  when  I  had  last 
seen  him.  I  believe  a  trait  of  this  gentleman  was  never  to 
forget  a  face. 

"  How  do  you,  Richard  ?  "  said  he.  How  I  reddened  when 
he  called  me  so  before  all  the  committee.  "I  have  heard  your 
story,  and  it  does  you  vast  credit.  And  the  gentlemen  tell  me 
you  are  earning  laurels,  sir." 

That  first  winter  of  the  tea  troubles  was  cold  and  wet  with 
us,  and  the  sun,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  the  times,  rarely 
showed  his  face.  Early  in  February  our  apprehensions  con- 
cerning Mr,  Swain's  health  were  realized.  One  day,  without 
a  word  to  any  one,  he  went  to  his  bed,  where  Patty  found  him. 
And  I  ran  all  the  way  to  Dr.  Leiden's.  The  doctor  looked  at 
him,  felt  his  pulse  and  his  chest,  and  said  nothing.  But  he 
did  not  rest  that  night,  nor  did  Patty  or  I. 

Thus  I  came  to  have  to  do  with  the  good  barrister's  private 
affairs.  I  knew  that  he  was  a  rich  man,  as  riches  went  in  our 
province,  but  I  had  never  tried  to  guess  at  his  estate.  I  con- 
fess the  sums  he  had  paid  out  in  Tom's  behalf  frightened  me. 
With  the  advice  of  Mr.  Bordley  and  Mr.  Lloyd  I  managed  his 
money  as  best  I  could,  but  by  reason  of  the  non-importation 
resolutions  there  was  little  chance  for  good  investments,  —  no 
cargoes  coming  and  few  going.  I  saAv,  indeed,  that  buying  the 
Talbot  estate  had  been  a  fortunate  step,  since  the  quantities  of 
wheat  we  grew  there  might  be  disposed  of  in  America. 

When  Dr.  Leiden  was  still  coming  twice  a  day  to  Glouces- 
ter Street.  Mr.  Tom  must  needs  get  into  a  scrape  with  one 


442  EICHARD   CAKVEL 

of  tlie  ladies  of  tlie  theatre,  and  come  to  me  in  tlie  Ciicle 
chambers  for  one  hundred  pounds.  I  told  him,  in  despair,  that 
I  had  no  authority  to  pay  out  his  father's  money. 

"And  so  you  have  become  master,  sure  enough!"  he  cried, 
m  a  passion.  For  he  was  desperate.  "  Yovi  have  worked  your 
way  in  vastly  well,  egad,  with  your  Whig  committee  meetings 
and  speeches.  And  now  he  is  on  his  back,  and  you  have  pos- 
session, you  choose  to  cut  me  oft'.  'Slife,  I  know  what  will  be 
coming  next ! " 

I  pulled  him  into  Mr.  Swain's  private  room,  Avhere  we 
would  be  free  of  the  clerks. 

"  Yes,  I  am  master  here,"  I  replied,  sadly  enough,  as  he 
stood  sullenly  before  me.  ''I  should  think  you  Avould  be 
ashamed  to  own  it.  When  I  came  to  your  father  I  was  con- 
tent to  be  overseer  in  Talbot,  and  thankful  for  his  bounty. 
'Tis  no  fault  of  mine,  but  your  disgrace,  that  his  son  is  not 
managing  his  business,  and  supporting  him  in  the  rights  of  his 
country.  I  am  not  very  old,  Tom.  A  year  older  than  you,  I 
believe.  But  I  have  seen  enough  of  life  to  prophesy  your  end 
and  you  do  not  reform." 

"  We  are  turned  preacher,"  he  says,  with  a  sneer. 

"  God  forbid !  But  I  have  been  in  a  sponging-house,  and 
tasted  the  lowest  dregs.  And  if  this  country  becomes  free, 
as  I  think  it  will  some  day  such  as  you  will  be  driven  to 
England,  and  die  in  the  Fleet.'' 

''Not  while  my  father  lives,"  retorts  he,  and  throws  aside 
the  oiled  silk  cape  with  a  London  name  upon  it.  The  day  was 
rainy. 

I  groaned.  My  responsibility  lay  heavy  upon  me.  And 
this  was  not  my  first  scene  with  him.  He  continued  dog- 
gedly :  — 

"  You  have  no  right  to  deny  me  what  is  not  yours.  'Twill 
be  mine  one  day." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  accuse  me  of  thoughts  that  do  not 
occur  to  men  of  honour,"  I  replied.  "  1  am  slower  to  anger 
than  I  once  was,  but  I  give  you  warning  now.  Do  you  know 
that  you  will  ruin  your  father  in  another  year  and  you 
continue  ?  " 


MULTUM   IN   PARVO  443 

He  gave  me  no  answer.     I  reached  for  the  ledger,  and  turn 
ing  the  pages,  called  off  to  him  the  sums  he  had  spent. 

"  Oh,  have  done,  d — n  it ! "  he  cried,  when  I  was  not  a  third 
through.     "  Are  you  or  are  you  not  to  give  me  the  money  ?  " 

"  And  you  are  to  spend  it  upon  an  actress  ?  "  I  should  have 
called  her  by  a  worse  name. 

"  Actress ! "  he  shouted.  "  Have  you  seen  her  in  The 
Orphan  ?  My  soul,  she  is  a  divinity ! "  Then  he  shifted 
suddenly  to  whining  and  cringing.  "  I  am  ruined  outright, 
Richard,  if  I  do  not  get  it." 

Abjectly  he  confessed  the  situation,  which  had  in  it  enough 
material  for  a  scandal  to  set  the  town  wagging  for  a  month. 
And  the  weight  of  it  would  fall,  as  I  well  knew,  upon  those 
who  deserved  it  least. 

"  I  will  lend  you  the  money,  or,  rather,  will  pay  it  for  you," 
I  said,  at  last.  For  I  was  not  so  foolish  as  to  put  it  into 
his  hands.  "  You  shall  have  the  sum  under  certain  condi- 
tions." 

He  agreed  to  them  before  they  were  out  of  my  mouth,  and 
swore  in  a  dozen  ways  that  he  would  repay  me  every  farthing. 
He  was  heartily  tired  of  the  creature,  and,  true  to  his  nature, 
afraid  of  her.  That  night  when  the  play  was  over  I  went  to 
her  lodging,  and  after  a  scene  too  distressing  to  dwell  upon, 
bought  her  off. 

I  sat  with  Mr.  Swain  many  an  hour  that  spring,  with  Patty 
sewing  at  the  window  open  to  the  garden.  Often,  as  we  talked, 
unnoticed  by  her  father  she  would  drop  her  work  and  the  tears 
glisten  in  her  eyes.  For  the  barrister's  voice  was  not  as  strong 
as  it  once  was,  and  the  cold  would  not  seem  to  lift  from  his 
chest.  So  this  able  man,  who  might  have  sat  in  the  seats  of 
Maryland's  high  reward,  was  stricken  when  he  was  needed 
most. 

He  was  permitted  two  visitors  a  day :  now  'twas  l\Ir.  Carroll 
and  Colonel  Lloyd,  again  Colonel  Tilghman  and  Captain  Clap- 
saddle,  or  Mr.  Paca  and  Mr.  Bordley.  The  gentlemen  took 
turns,  and  never  was  their  business  so  pressing  that  they 
missed  their  hour.  Mr.  Swain  read  all  the  prints,  and  on  his 
easier  days  would  dictate  to  me  his  views  for  the  committee. 


444  RICHARD  CARVEL 

or  a  letter  signed  Brutus  for  Mr.  Green  to  put  in  the  Gazette, 
So  I  became  his  mouthpiece  at  the  meetings,  and  learned  to 
formulate  my  thoughts  and  to  speak  clearly. 

For  fear  of  confusing  this  narrative,  my  dears,  I  have  referred 
but  little  to  her  who  was  in  my  thoughts  night  and  day,  and 
whose  locket  I  wore,  throughout  all  those  years,  next  my  heart. 
I  used  to  sit  out  under  the  stars  at  Gordon's  Pride,  with  the 
river  lapping  at  my  feet,  and  picture  her  the  shining  centre  of 
all  the  brilliant  scenes  I  had  left,  and  wonder  if  she  still 
thought  of  me. 

Nor  have  I  mentioned  that  faithful  correspondent,  and  more 
faithful  friend.  Lord  Comyn.  As  soon  as  ever  I  had  obtained 
from  Captain  Daniel  my  mother's  little  inheritance,  I  sent  off 
the  debt  1  owed  his  Lordship.  'Twas  a  year  before  I  got  him 
to  receive  it ;  he  despatched  the  money  back  once,  saying  that 
I  had  more  need  of  it  than  he.  I  smiled  at  this,  for  my  Lord 
was  never  within  his  income,  and  I  made  no  doubt  he  had 
signed  a  note  to  cover  my  indebtedness. 

Every  letter  Comyn  writ  me  was  nine  parts  Dolly,  and 
the  rest  of  his  sheet  usually  taken  up  with  Mr.  Fox  and  his 
calamities :  these  had  fallen  upon  him  very  thick  of  late.  Lord 
Holland  had  been  forced  to  pay  out  a  hundred  thousand  pounds 
for  Charles,  and  even  this  enormous  sum  did  not  entirely  free 
Mr.  Fox  from  the  discounters  and  the  hounds.  The  reason 
for  this  sudden  onslaught  was  the  birth  of  a  boy  to  his  brother 
Stephen,  who  was  heir  to  the  title.  "  When  they  told  Charles 
of  it,"  Comyn  wrote,  "  said  he,  coolly  :  *  My  brother  Ste's  son  is 
a  second  Messiah,  born  for  the  destruction  of  the  Jews.' " 

I  saw  no  definite  signs,  as  yet,  of  the  conversion  of  this 
prodigy,  which  I  so  earnestl}^  hoped  for.  He  had  quarrelled 
with  North,  lost  his  place  on  the  Admiralty,  and  presently  the 
King  had  made  him  a  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  tho'  more  out  of 
fear  than  love.  Once  in  a  while,  when  he  saw  Comyn  at  Al- 
mack's,  he  would  desire  to  be  remembered  to  me,  and  he 
always  spoke  of  me  with  affection.  But  he  could  be  got  to 
write  to  no  one,  said  my  Lord,  with  kind  exaggeration ;  nor 
will  he  receive  letters,  for  fear  he  may  get  a  dun. 


MULTUM    IN   PAPvVO  445 

Alas,  I  got  no  message  from  Dorothy !  Nor  had  she  ever 
mentioned  my  name  to  Comyn.  He  had  not  seen  her  for  eight 
months  after  I  left  England,  as  she  had  been  taken  to  the 
Continent  for  her  health.  She  came  back  to  London  more 
ravishing  than  before,  and  (I  nse  his  Lordship's  somewhat  ex- 
travagant language)  her  suffering  had  stamped  upon  her  face 
even  more  of  character  and  power.  She  had  lost  much  of  her 
levity,  likewise.  In  short,  my  Lord  declared,  she  was  more  of 
the  queen  than  ever,  and  the  mystery  which  hung  over  the 
Vauxhall  duel  had  served  only  to  add  to  her  fame. 

Dorothy  having  become  cognizant  of  Mr.  Marmaduke's  trick- 
ery, Chartersea  seemed  to  have  dropped  out  of  the  race.  He 
now  spent  his  time  very  evenly  between  Spa  and  Derresley  and 
Paris.  Hence  I  had  so  much  to  be  thankful  for,  —  that  with 
all  my  blunders,  I  had  saved  her  from  his  Grace.  My  Lord 
the  Marquis  of  Wells  was  now  most  conspicuous  amongst  her 
suitors.  Comyn  had  nothing  particular  against  this  nobleman, 
saying  that  he  was  a  good  fellow,  with  a  pretty  fortune.  And 
here  is  a  letter,  my  dears,  in  which  he  figures,  that  I  brought 
to  Gordon's  Pride  that  spring  :  — 

"  10  South  Parade,  Bath, 
March  12,  1774. 

"  Dkar  Richard  :  —  Miss  Manners  has  come  to  Bath,  with 
a  train  behind  her  longer  than  that  which  followed  good  Queen 
Anne  hither,  when  she  made  this  Gehenna  the  fashion.  Her 
triumphal  entry  last  Wednesday  was  announced  by  such  a  peal 
of  the  abbey  bells  as  inust  have  cracked  the  metal  (for  they 
have  not  rung  since)  and  started  Beau  Nash  a-cursing  where 
he  lies  under  the  floor.  Next  came  her  serenade  by  the  band. 
Mr.  Marmaduke  swore  they  would  never  have  done,  and 
sqviirmed  and  grinned  like  Punch  when  he  thought  of  the  fee,  — 
for  he  had  hoped  to  get  off  with  a  crown,  I  warrant  you.  You 
should  have  seen  his  face  when  they  would  accept  no  fee  at 
all  for  the  beauty  !  Some  wag  has  writ  a  verse  about  it,  which 
was  printed,  and  has  set  the  whole  pump-room  laughing  this 
morning. 

"  She  was  led  out  by  Wells  in  the  Seaso7is  last  night.   As  Spring 


446  RICHARD   CARVEL 

she  is  too  bewildering  for  my  pen,  —  all  primrose  and  white; 
with  the  flowers  in  her  blue-black  hair.  Had  Sir  Joshua  seen 
her,  he  would  never  rest  content  till  he  should  have  another 
portrait.  The  Due  de  Lauzun,  who  contrived  to  get  two 
dances,  might  give  you  a  description  in  a  more  suitable  lan- 
guage than  English.  And  there  was  a  prodigious  deal  of  jeal- 
ousy among  the  fair  ones  on  the  benches,  you  may  be  sure,  and 
much  jaundiced  comment. 

"  Some  half  dozen  of  us  adorers  have  a  mess  at  the  Bear,  and 
have  offered  up  a  prize  for  the  most  appropriate  toast  on  the 
beauty.  This  is  in  competition  with  Mrs.  Miller.  Have  you 
not  heard  of  her  among  yonr  tobacco-hills  ?  Horry  calls  her 
Mrs.  'Calliope'  Miller.  At  her  place  near  here,  Bath  Easton 
Villa,  she  has  set  up  a  Roman  vase  bedecked  with  myrtle,  and 
into  this  we  drop  our  bouts-rimes.  Mrs.  Calliope  has  a  ball  every 
Thursday,  when  the  victors  are  crowned.  T'other  day  the 
theme  was  -A  Buttered  Muflfin,'  and  her  Grace  of  Northum- 
berland was  graciously  awarded  the  prize.  In  faith,  that  theme 
taxed  our  wits  at  the  Bear,  —  how  to  weave  Miss  Dolly's 
charms  into  a  verse  on  a  buttered  muflfin.  I  shall  not  tire  you 
with  mine.  Storer's  deserved  to  win,  and  we  whisper  that  Mrs. 
Calliope  ruled  it  out  through  spite.  '  When  Phyllis  eats,'  so  it 
began,  and  I  vow  'twas  devilish  ingenious. 

"  We  do  nothing  but  play  lasquenet  and  tennis,  and  go  to  the 
assembly,  and  follow  Miss  Dolly  into  Gill's,  the  pastry-cook's, 
where  she  goes  every  morning  to  take  a  jelly.  The  ubiquitous 
Wells  does  not  give  us  much  chance.  He  writes  ^Jers  de  societe 
with  the  rest,  is  high  in  Mr.  Marmaduke's  favour,  which  alone 
is  enough  to  damn  his  progress.  I  think  she  is  ill  of  the  sight 
of  him. 

"Albeit  she  does  not  mourn  herself  into  a  tree, I'll  take  oath 

your  Phyllis  is  true  to  you,  Richard,  and  would  live  with  you 

gladly  in  a  thatched  hut  and  you  asked  her.     Write  me  more 

news  of  yourself.  ,,  ^^  „,    ^.       , 

''  "Your  ever  aftectionate  ^ 

"  COMYN. 

"P.S.  I  have  had  news  of  you  through  Mr.  Worthington,  of 
your  colony,  who  is  just  arrived  here..    He  tells  me  that  you 


MULTUM   IN  PARVO  447 

have  gained  a  vast  reputation  for  your  plantation,  and  likewise 
that  you  are  thought  much  of  by  the  Whig  wiseacres,  and  that 
you  hold  many  seditious  offices.  He  does  not  call  them  so. 
Since  your  modesty  will  not  permit  you  to  write  me  any  of 
these  things,  I  have  been  imagining  you  driving  slaves  with  a 
rawhide,  and  sending  runaway  convicts  to  the  mines.  Mr.  W. 
is  even  now  paying  his  respects  to  JMiss  Manners,  and  I  doubt 
not  trumpeting  your  praises  there,  for  he  seems  to  like  you.  So 
I  have  asked  him  to  join  the  Bear  mess.  One  more  unfortu- 
nate ! 

"P.S.  I  was  near  forgetting  the  news  about  Charles  Fox. 
He  sends  you  his  love,  and  tells  me  to  let  you  know  that  he  has 
been  turned  out  of  North's  house  for  good  and  all.  He  is  sure 
you  will  be  cursed  happy  over  it,  and  says  that  you  predicted 
he  would  go  over  to  the  Whigs.  I  can  scarce  believe  that  he 
will.  North  took  a  whole  week  to  screw  up  iiis  courage,  h — s 
M — j — sty  pricking  him  every  day.  And  then  be  wrote  this  : 
'Sir,  his  Majesty  has  thought  proper  to  order  a  new  Commis- 
sion of  the  Treasury  to  be  made  out,  in  which  I  do  not  see  your 
name.'  Poor  Charles  !  He  is  now  without  money  or  place,  but 
as  usual  appears  to  worry  least  of  all  of  us,  and  still  reads  his 
damned  Tasso  for  amusement. 

"C." 

Perchance  he  was  to  be  the  Saint  Paul  of  English  politics, 
after  all. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

LIBERTY   LOSES    A   FRIEND 

Mr.  Bordley's  sloop  took  Mr.  Swain  to  Gordon's  Pride  in 
May,  and  placed  him  in  the  big  room  overlooking  the  widening 
river.  There  he  would  lie  all  day  long,  staring  through  the 
leaves  at  the  water,  or  listening  to  the  sweet  music  of  his 
daughter's  voice  as  she  read  from  the  pompous  prints  of  the 
time.  Gentlemen  continued  to  come  to  the  plantation,  for 
the  barrister's  wisdom  was  sorely  missed  at  the  councils. 
One  day,  as  I  rode  in  from  the  field,  I  found  Colonel  Lloyd 
just  arrived  from  Philadelpliia,  sipping  sangaree  on  the  lawn 
and  mopping  himself  with  his  handkerchief.  His  jolly  face 
was  troubled.     He  waved  his  hand  at  me. 

"Well,  Richard,"  says  he,  "we  children  are  to  have  our 
first  whipping.  At  least  one  of  us.  And  the  rest  are  resolved 
to  defy  our  parent." 

"Boston,  Mr.  Lloyd?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  Boston,"  he  replied;  "her  port  is  closed,  and  we  are 
forbid  any  intercourse  with  her  nntil  she  comes  to  her  senses. 
And  her  citizens  must  receive  his  gracious  Majesty's  troopers 
into  their  houses.  And  if  a  man  kill  one  of  them  by  any 
chance,  he  is  to  go  to  England  to  be  tried.  And  there  is  more 
quite  as  bad." 

" 'Tis  bad  enough!"  I  cried,  flinging  myself  down.  And 
Patty  gave  me  a  glass  in  silence. 

"Ay,  but  you  must  hear  all,"  said  he;  "our  masters  are  of 
a  mind  to  do  the  thing  thoroughly.  Canada  is  given  some 
score  of  privileges.  Her  French  Roman  Catholics,  whom  we 
fought  not  long  since,  are  thrown  a  sop,  and  those  vast  terri- 
tories between  the  lakes  and  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  are 

448 


LIBERTY   LOSES   A   FRIEND  449 

given  to  Quebec  as  a  price  for  her  fidelity.  And  so,  if  the 
worst  comes  to  worst,  George's  regiments  will  have  a  place  to 
land  against  us." 

Such  was  the  news,  and  though  we  were  some  hundreds  of 
miles  from  Massachusetts,  we  felt  their  cause  as  our  own. 
There  was  no  need  of  the  appeal  which  came  by  smoking 
horses  from  Philadelphia,  for  the  indignation  of  our  people 
was  roused  to  the  highest  pitch.  Now  Mr.  Swain  had  to  take 
to  his  bed  from  the  excitement. 

This  is  not  a  history,  my  dears,  as  I  have  said.  And  time 
is  growing  short.  I  shall  pass  over  that  dreary  summer  of 
'74.  It  required  no  very  keen  eye  to  see  the  breakers  ahead, 
and  Mr.  Bordley's  advice  to  provide  against  seven  years  of 
famine  did  not  go  unheeded.  War  was  the  last  thing  we 
desired.  We  should  have  been  satisfied  with  so  little,  we 
colonies!  And  would  have  voted  the  duties  ten  times  over 
had  our  rights  been  respected.  Should  any  of  you  doubt  this, 
you  have  but  to  read  the  "  Address  to  the  King  "  of  our  Con- 
gress, then  sitting  in  Philadelphia.  The  quarrel  was  so  petty, 
and  so  easy  of  mending,  that  you  of  this  generation  may  won- 
der why  it  was  allowed  to  run.  I  have  tried  to  tell  you  that 
the  head  of  a  stubborn,  selfish,  and  wilful  monarch  blocked 
the  way  to  reconciliation.  King  George  the  Third  is  alone  to 
blame  for  that  hatred  of  race  against  race  which  already  hath 
done  so  much  evil.  And  I  pray  God  that  a  great  historian 
may  arise  whose  pen  will  reveal  the  truth,  and  reconcile  at 
lensrth  those  who  arfi-  arid  sliould  be,  brothers. 

By  October,  that  most  beautiful  month  of  all  the  year  in 
Maryland,  we  were  again  in  Annapolis.  One  balmy  day  — 
'twas  a  Friday,  I  believe,  and  a  gold  and  blue  haze  hung  over 
the  Severn  —  Mr.  Chase  called  in  Gloucester  Street  to  give 
the  barrister  news  of  the  Congress,  which  he  had  lately  left. 
As  he  came  down  the  stairs  he  paused  for  a  word  with  me  in 
the  library,  and  remarked  sadly  upon  Mr.  Swain's  condition. 
"He  looks  like  a  dying  man,  Richard,"  said  he,  "and  we  can 
ill  afford  to  lose  him." 

Even  as  we  sat  talking  in  subdued  tones,  the  noise  of  a  dis- 
tant commotion  arose.     We  had  scarce  started  to  our  feet, 
2o 


450  EICHARD   CARVEL 

Mr,  Chase  and  I,  when  the  brass  knocker  resounded,  and  Mr. 
Hammond  was  let  in.  His  wig  was  awry,  and  his  face  was 
flushed. 

''I  thought  to  find  you  here,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Chase.  "The 
Anne  Arundel  Committee  is  to  meet  at  once,  and  we  desire  to 
have  you  with  us."  Perceiving  our  blank  faces,  he  added: 
"  The  Peggy  Stewart  is  in  this  morning  with  over  a  ton  of  tea 
aboard,  consigned  to  the  Williams's." 

The  two  jumped  into  a  chaise,  and  I  followed  afoot,  stopped 
at  every  corner  by  some  excited  acquaintance ;  so  that  I  had 
the  whole  story,  and  more,  ere  I  reached  Church  Street. 
The  way  was  blocked  before  the  committee  rooms,  and  'twas 
said  that  the  merchants,  Messrs.  Williams,  and  Captain  Jack- 
son of  the  brig,  were  within,  pleading  their  cause. 

Presently  the  news  leaked  abroad  that  Mr.  Anthony  Stewart, 
the  brig's  owner,  had  himself  paid  the  duty  on  the  detested 
plant.  Some  hundreds  of  people  were  elbowing  each  other  in 
the  street,  for  the  most  part  quiet  and  anxious,  until  Mr. 
Hammond  appeared  and  whispered  to  a  man  at  the  door.  In 
all  my  life  before  I  had  never  heard  the  hum  of  an  angry 
crowd.  The  sound  had  something  ominous  in  it,  like  the  first 
moanings  of  a  wind  that  is  to  break  off  great  trees  at  their 
trunks.  Then  some  one  shouted:  "To  Hanover  Street!  To 
Hanover  Street!  We'll  have  him  tarred  and  feathered  before 
the  sun  is  down! "  The  voice  sounded  strangely  like  Weld's. 
They  charged  at  this  cry  like  a  herd  of  mad  buffalo,  the 
weaker  ones  trampled  under  foot  or  thrust  against  the  wall. 
The  windows  of  Mr.  Aikman's  shop  were  shattered.  I  ran 
with  the  leaders,  my  stature  and  strength  standing  me  in  good 
stead  more  than  once,  and  as  we  twisted  into  Northwest  Street 
I  took  a  glance  at  the  mob  behind  me,  and  great  was  my 
anxiety  at  not  being  able  to  descry  one  responsible  person. 

Mr.  Stewart's  house  stood,  and  stands  to-day,  amid  trim 
gardens,  in  plain  sight  of  the  Severn.  Arriving  there,  the 
crowd  massed  in  front  of  it,  some  of  the  boldest  pressing  in  at 
the  gate  and  spreading  over  the  circle  of  lawn  enclosed  by  the 
driveway.  They  began  to  shout  hoarsely,  with  what  voices 
they  had  left,  for  Mr.  Stewart  to  come  out,  calling  him  names 


LIBERTY  LOSES   A  FRIEND  451 

not  to  be  spoken,  and  swearing  they  would  show  him  how 
traitors  were  to  be  served.  I  understood  then  the  terror  of 
numbers,  and  shuddered.  A  chandler,  a  bold  and  violent 
man,  whose  leather  Avas  covered  with  grease,  already  had  his 
foot  on  the  steps,  when  the  frightened  servants  slammed  the 
door  in  his  face,  and  closed  the  lower  windows.  In  vain  I 
strained  ray  eyes  for  some  one  who  might  have  authority  with 
them.  They  began  to  pick  up  stones,  though  none  were 
thrown. 

Suddenly  a  figure  appeared  at  an  upper  Avindow, —  a  thin 
and  wasted  woman  dressed  in  white,  Avith  sad,  sweet  features. 
It  was  Mrs.  Stewart.  Without  flinching  she  looked  down  upon 
the  upturned  faces;  but  a  mob  of  that  kind  has  no  pity.  Their 
leaders  Avere  the  Avorst  class  in  our  province,  being  mostly 
convicts  Avho  had  served  their  terms  of  indenture.  Tliey  con- 
tinued to  call  sullenly  for  "the  traitor."  Then  the  house  door 
opened,  and  the  master  himself  appeared.  He  was  pale  and 
nervous,  and  no  Avonder;  and  his  voice  shook  as  he  strove  to 
make  himself  heard.  His  words  Avere  drowned  immediately 
by  shouts  of  "Seize  him!  Seize  the  d — d  traitor!"  "A 
pot  and  a  coat  of  hot  tar !  " 

Those  who  were  nearest  started  forward,  and  I  Avith  them. 
With  me  'twas  the  decision  of  an  instant.  I  beat  the  chand- 
ler up  the  steps,  and  took  stand  in  front  of  the  merchant, 
and  I  called  out  to  them  to  fall  back. 

To  my  astonishment  they  halted.  The  skirts  of  the  crowd 
were  noAV  come  to  the  foot  of  the  little  porch.  I  faced  them 
with  my  hand  on  Mr.  Stewart's  arm,  without  a  thought  of 
what  to  do  next,  and  expecting  violence.  There  was  a  second's 
hush.     Then  some  one  cried  out :  — 

"Three  cheers  for  Richard  Carvel!  " 

They  gave  them  with  a  Avill  that  dumfounded  me. 

"My  friends,"  said  I,  when  I  had  got  my  Avits,  "this  is 
neither  the  justice  nor  the  moderation  for  which  our  province 
is  noted.  You  have  elected  your  committee  of  your  free  Avills, 
and  they  have  claims  before  you." 

"  Ay,  ay,  the  committee !  "  they  shouted^  "  Mr.  Carvel  is 
right.     Take  him  to  the  Committee!  " 


452  EICHARD   CARVEL 

Mr.  Stewart  raised  his  hand. 

"My  friends,"  he  began,  as  I  had  done,  "when  you  have 
learned  the  truth,  you  will  not  be  so  hasty  to  blame  me  for  an 
offence  of  which  I  am  innocent.  The  tea  was  not  for  me. 
The  brig  was  in  a  leaky  and  dangerous  state  and  had  fifty  souls 
aboard  her.     I  paid  the  duty  out  of  humanity  —  " 

He  had  come  so  far,  when  they  stopped  him. 

"Oh,  a  vile  Tory!"  they  shouted.  "He  is  conniving  with 
the  Council.  'Twas  put  up  between  them."  And  they  fol- 
lowed this  with  another  volley  of  hard  names,  until  I  feared 
that  his  chance  was  gone. 

"You  would  best  go  before  the  Committee,  Mr.  Stewart,"  I 
said. 

"I  will  go  with  Mr.  Carvel,  my  friends,"  he  cried  at  once. 
And  he  invited  me  into  the  house  whilst  he  ordered  his  coach. 
I  preferred  to  remain  outside. 

I  asked  them  if  they  would  trust  me  with  Mr.  Stewart  to 
Church  Street. 

"Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Carvel,  we  know  you,"  said  several.  "He 
has  good  cause  to  hate  Tories,"  called  another,  with  a  laugh. 
I  knew  the  voice. 

"For  shame.  Weld,"  I  cried.  And  I  saw  McNeir,  who  was 
a  stanch  friend  of  mine,  give  him  a  cuff  to  send  him  spinning. 

To  my  vast  satisfaction  they  melted  away,  save  only  a  few 
of  the  idlest  spirits,  who  hung  about  the  gate,  and  cheered  as 
we  drove  off.  Mr.  Stewart  was  very  nervous,  and  profuse  in 
his  gratitude.  I  replied  that  I  had  acted  only  as  would  have 
any  other  responsible  citizen.  On  the  way  he  told  me  enough 
of  his  case  to  convince  me  that  there  was  much  to  be  said  on 
his  Side,  but  I  thought  it  the  better  part  of  wisdom  not  to 
commit  myself.  The  street  in  front  of  the  committee  rooms 
was  empty,  and  I  was  informed  that  a  town  meeting  had  been 
called  immediately  at  the  theatre  in  West  Street.  And  I 
advised  Mr.  Stewart  to  attend.  But  throiigh  anxiety  or  anger, 
or  both,  he  was  determined  not  to  go,  and  drove  back  to  his 
house  without  me. 

I  had  got  as  far  as  St.  Anne's,  halfway  to  the  theatre,  when 
it  suddenly  struck  me  that  Mr.  Swain  must  be  waiting  for 


LIBERTY  LOSES   A   FRIEND  453 

news.  Witli  a  twinge  I  remembered  what  Mr.  Chase  had  said 
about  the  barrister's  condition,  and  I  hurried  back  to  Glouces- 
ter Street,  much  to  the  surprise  of  those  I  met  on  their  way 
to  the  meeting.  I  was  greatly  relieved,  when  I  arrived,  to 
find  Patty  on  the  porch.  I  knew  she  had  never  been  there 
were  her  father  worse.  After  a  word  with  her  and  her  mother, 
I  went  up  the  stairs. 

It  was  the  liour  for  the  barrister's  nap.  But  he  was  awake, 
lying  back  on  the  pillows,  with  his  eyes  half  closed.  He  was 
looking  out  into  the  garden,  which  was  part  orchard,  now  be- 
ginning to  shrivel  and  to  brown  with  the  first  touch  of  frosts. 

"That  is  you,  Richard?"  he  inquired,  without  moving. 
"What  is  going  forward  to-day?" 

I  toned  down  the  news,  so  as  not  to  excite  him,  and  left  out 
the  occurrence  in  Hanover  Street.  He  listened  with  his  ac- 
customed interest,  but  when  I  had  done  he  asked  no  questions, 
and  lay  for  a  long  time  silent.  Then  he  begged  me  to  bring 
my  chair  nearer. 

"Richard, —  my  son,"  said  he,  with  an  evident  effort,  "I 
have  never  thanked  you  for  your  devotion  to  me  and  mine 
through  the  best  years  of  your  life.  It  shall  not  go  unre- 
warded, my  lad." 

It  seemed  as  if  my  heart  stood  still  with  the  presage  of  what 
was  to  come. 

"May  God  reward  you,  sir!  "  I  said. 

"I  have  wished  to  speak  to  you," he  continued,  "and  I  may 
not  have  another  chance.  I  have  arranged  with  Mr.  Carroll, 
the  barrister,  to  take  your  cause  against  your  uncle,  so  that 
you  will  lose  nothing  when  I  am  gone.  And  you  will  see,  in 
my  table  in  the  library,  that  I  have  left  my  property  in  your 
hands,  with  every  confidence  in  your  integrity,  and  ability  to 
care  for  my  family,  even  as  I  should  have  done." 

I  could  not  speak  at  once.  A  lump  rose  in  my  throat,  for 
I  had  come  to  look  upon  him  as  a  father.  His  honest  dealings, 
his  charity,  of  which  the  world  knew  nothing,  and  his  plain 
and  unassuming  ways  had  inspired  in  me  a  kind  of  worship. 
I  answered,  as  steadily  as  I  might :  — 

"  I  believe  I  am  too  inexperienced  for  such  a  responsibility, 


454  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Mr.  Swain.     Would  it  not  be  better  that  Mr.  Bordley  or  Mr. 
Lloyd  should  act  ?  " 

"  No,  no, "  he  said ;  "  I  am  not  a  man  to  do  things  unad- 
visedly, or  to  let  affection  get  the  better  of  my  judgment, 
where  others  dear  to  me  are  concerned.  I  know  you,  Richard 
Carvel.  Scarce  an  action  of  yours  has  escaped  my  eye,  though 
I  have  said  nothing.  You  have  been  through  the  fire,  and  are 
of  the  kind  which  comes  out  untouched.  You  will  have  Judge 
Bordley' s  advice,  and  Mr.  Carroll's.  And  they  are  too  busy 
with  the  affairs  of  the  province  to  be  burdened  as  my  executors. 
But,"  he  added  a  little  more  strongly,  "if  what  I  fear  is  com- 
ing, Mr.  Bordley  will  take  the  trust  in  your  absence.  If  we 
have  war,  Richard,  you  will  not  be  content  to  remain  at  home, 
nor  would  I  wish  it." 

I  did  not  reply. 

"You  will  do  what  I  ask  ?"  he  said. 

"I  would  refuse  you  nothing,  Mr.  Swain,"  I  answered. 
"But  I  have  heavy  misgivings." 

He  sighed.  "  And  now,  if  it  were  not  for  Tom,  I  might  die 
content,"  he  said. 

If  it  were  not  for  Tom !  The  full  burden  of  the  trust  began 
to  dawn  upon  me  then.  Presently  I  heard  him  speaking,  but 
in  so  low  a  voice  that  I  hardly  caught  the  words. 

"In  our  youth,  Richard,"  he  was  saying,  "the  wrath  of  the 
Almighty  is  but  so  many  words  to  most  of  us.  Wlien  I  was 
little  more  than  a  lad,  I  committed  a  sin  of  which  I  tremble 
now  to  think.  And  I  was  the  fool  to  imagine,  when  I  amended 
my  life,  that  God  had  forgotten.  His  punishment  is  no  heavier 
than  I  deserve.  But  He  alone  knows  what  He  has  made  me 
suffer." 

I  felt  that  I  had  no  right  to  be  there. 

"That  is  why  I  have  paid  Tom's  debts,"  he  continued;  "  I 
cannot  cast  off  my  son.  I  have  reasoned,  implored,  and 
appealed  in  vain.  He  is  like  Reuben,  —  his  resolutions  melt 
in  an  hour.  And  I  have  pondered  day  and  night  what  is  to 
be  done  for  him." 

"Is  he  to  have  his  portion?"  I  asked.  Indeed,  the  thought 
of  the  responsibility  of  Tom  Swain  overwhelmed  me. 


LIBERTY   LOSES   A  FRIEND  455 

"Yes,  he  is  to  have  it,"  cried  Mr.  Swain,  with  a  violence  to 
bring  on  a  fit  of  coughing.  "  Were  I  to  leave  it  in  trust  for  a 
time,  he  would  have  it  mortgaged  within  a  year.  He  is  to 
have  his  portion,  but  not  a  penny  additional." 

He  lay  for  a  long  time  breathing  deeply,  I  watching  him. 
Then,  as  he  reached  out  and  took  my  hand,  I  knew  by  some 
instinct  what  was  to  come.  I  summoned  all  my  self-command 
to  meet  his  eye.  I  knew  that  the  malicious  and  unthinking 
gossip  of  the  town  had  reached  him,  and  that  he  had  received 
it  in  the  simple  faith  of  his  hopes. 

"One  thing  more,  my  lad,"  he  said,  "the  dearest  wish  of 
all  —  that  you  will  marry  Patty.  She  is  a  good  girl,  Richard. 
And  I  have  thought,"  he  added  with  hesitation,  "I  have 
thought  that  she  loves  you,  though  her  lips  have  never  opened 
on  that  subject." 

So  the  blow  fell.  I  tarned  away,  for  to  save  my  life 
the  words  would  not  come.  He  missed  the  reason  of  my 
silence. 

"  I  understand  and  honour  your  scruples,"  he  went  on.  His 
kindness  was  like  a  knife. 

"No,  I  have  had  none,  Mr.  Swain,"  I  exclaimed.  For  I 
would  not  be  thought  a  hypocrite. 

There  I  stopped.  A  light  step  sounded  in  the  hall,  and 
Patty  came  in  upon  us.  Her  colour  at  once  betrayed  her 
understanding.  To  my  infinite  relief  her  father  dropped  my 
fingers,  and  asked  cheerily  if  there  was  any  news  from  the 
town  meeting. 

On  the  folloAving  Wednesday,  with  her  flag  flying  and  her 
sails  set,  the  Peggy  Steioart  was  run  ashore  on  Windmill  Point. 
She  rose,  a  sacrifice  to  Liberty,  in  smoke  to  heaven,  before 
the  assembled  patriots  of  our  city. 

That  very  night  a  dear  friend  to  Liberty  passed  away.  He 
failed  so  suddenly  that  Patty  had  no  time  to  call  for  aid, 
and  when  the  mother  had  been  carried  in,  his  spirit  was 
flown.  We  laid  him  high  on  the  hill  above  the  creek,  in 
the  new  lot  he  had  bought  and  fenced  around.  The  stone  re- 
mains :  — 


456  EICHARD   CARVEL 

HERE   LIETH 

HENRY  SWAIN,   Bakristkr. 
Born  May  13,  1730  (O.S.)  ; 

Died  October  19,  1774. 
Fidus  Amicis  atque  Patrice. 

The  gimple  inscription,  wliich  speaks  volumes  to  those  who 
knew  him,  was  cut  after  the  Eevolution.  He  was  buried  with 
the  honours  of  a  statesman,  which  he  would  have  been  had 
Grod  spared  him  to  serve  the  New  Country  which  was  born  so 
soon  after  his  death. 


CHAPTER  L 

FAREWELL   TO    GORDOn's 

I  CANNOT  bear  to  recall  my  misery  of  mind  after  Mr.  Swain'a 
death.  One  hope  had  lightened  all  the  years  of  my  servitude. 
For,  when  I  examined  my  soul,  I  knew  that  it  was  for  Dorothy 
I  had  laboured.  And  every  letter  that  came  from  Comyn  tell- 
ing me  she  was  still  free  gave  me  new  heart  for  my  work.  By 
some  mystic  communion  —  I  know  not  what  —  I  felt  that  she 
loved  me  yet,  and  despite  distance  and  degree.  I  would  wake 
of  a  morning  with  the  knowledge  of  it,  and  be  silent  for  half 
the  day  with  some  particle  of  a  dream  in  my  head,  lingering 
like  the  burden  of  a  song  with  its  train  of  memories. 

So,  in  the  days  that  followed,  I  scarce  knew  myself.  For 
a  while  (I  shame  to  write  it)  I  avoided  that  sweet  woman  who 
had  made  my  comfort  her  care,  whose  father  had  taken  me 
when  I  was  homeless.  The  good  in  me  cried  out,  but  the  flesh 
rebelled. 

Poor  Patty!  Her  grief  for  her  father  was  pathetic  to  see. 
Weeks  passed  in  which  she  scarcely  spoke  a  word.  And  I 
remember  her  as  she  sat  in  church  Sundays,  the  whiteness  of 
her  face  enhanced  by  the  crape  she  wore,  and  a  piteous  appeal 
in  her  gray  eyes.  My  own  agony  was  nigh  be^^ond  endurance, 
my  will  swinging  like  a  pendulum  from  right  to  wrong,  and 
back  again.  Argue  as  I  might  that  I  had  made  the  barrister 
no  promise,  conscience  allowed  no  difference.  I  was  in  de- 
spair at  the  trick  fate  had  played  me ;  at  the  decree  that  of  all 
women  I  must  love  her  whose  sphere  was  now  so  far  removed 
from  mine.  For  Patty  had  character  and  beauty,  and  every 
gift  which  goes  to  make  man's  happiness  and  to  kindle  his 
affections. 

457 


458  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Her  sorrow  left  her  more  womanly  than  ever.  And  aftei 
the  first  sharp  sting  of  it  was  deadened,  I  noticed  a  marked 
reserve  in  her  intercourse  with  me.  I  knew  then  that  she 
must  have  strong  suspicions  of  her  father's  request.  Speak  I 
could  not  soon  after  the  sad  event,  but  I  strove  hard  that  she 
should  see  no  change  in  my  conduct. 

Before  Christmas  we  went  to  the  Eastern  Shore.  In  An- 
napolis fife  and  drum  had  taken  the  place  of  fiddle  and  clarion ; 
militia  companies  were  drilling  in  the  empty  streets ;  despatches 
were  arriving  daily  from  the  North;  and  grave  gentlemen  were 
hurrying  to  meetings.  But  if  the  Avar  was  to  come,  I  must 
settle  what  was  to  be  done  at  Gordon's  Pride  with  all  possible 
speed.  It  was  only  a  few  days  after  our  going  there,  that  I 
rode  into  Oxford  with  a  black  cockade  in  my  hat  Patty  had 
made  me,  and  the  army  sword  Captain  Jack  had  given  Captain 
Daniel  at  my  side.  For  I  had  been  elected  a  lieutenant  in  the 
Oxford  company,  of  which  Percy  Singleton  was  captain. 

So  passed  that  winter,  the  darkest  of  my  life.  One  soft 
spring  day,  when  the  birds  Avere  twittering  amid  neAV-borji 
leaves,  and  the  hyacinths  and  tulips  in  Patty's  garden  Avere 
coming  to  their  glory,  Master  Tom  rode  leisurely  down  the 
drive  at  Gordon's  Pride.  That  was  a  Saturday,  the  29th  of 
April,  1775.  The  news  Avhich  had  flown  southward,  night 
and  day  alike,  was  in  no  hurry  to  run  off  his  tongue;  he  had 
been  lolling  on  the  porch  for  half  an  hour  before  he  told  us  of 
the  bloodshed  betw^een  the  minute-men  of  Massachusetts  and 
the  British  regulars,  of  the  rout  of  Percy's  panting  redcoats 
from  Concord  to  Boston.  Tom  added,  with  the  brutal  non- 
chalance AA^hich  characterized  his  dealings  Avith  his  mother 
and  sister,  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  Philadelphia  to  join  a 
company. 

The  poor  invalid  was  carried  up  the  stairs  in  a  faint  by 
Banks  and  Romney.  Patty,  with  pale  face  and  lips  com- 
pressed, ran  to  fetch  the  hartshorn.  But  Master  Tom  re- 
mained undisturbed. 

"I  suppose  3'ou  are  going,  Richard,"  he  remarked  affably. 
For  he  treated  me  Avith  more  consideration  than  his  family. 
"We  shall  ride  together,"  said  he. 


FAREWELL  TO   GORDON'S  459 

"We  ride  diiferent  ways,  and  to  different  destinations,"  I 
replied  dryly.  "  I  go  to  serve  my  country,  and  you  to  fight 
against  it." 

"I  think  the  King  is  right,"  he  answered  sullenly. 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  remarked,  and  rose.  "Then 
you  have  studied  the  question  since  last  I  saw  you." 

"No,  by  G — d!"  he  cried,  "and  I  never  will.  I  do  not 
want  to  know  your  d — d  principles  —  or  grievances,  or  what- 
ever they  are.  We  were  living  an  easy  life,  in  the  plenty  of 
money,  and  nothing  to  complain  of.  You  take  it  all  away, 
with  your  cursed  cant  —  " 

I  left  him  railing  and  swearing.  And  that  was  the  last  I 
saw  of  Tom  Swain.  When  I  returned  from  a  final  survey  of 
the  plantation,  and  a  talk  with  Percy  Singleton,  he  had  ridden 
North  again. 

I  found  Patty  alone  in  the  parlour.  Her  work  (one  of  my 
own  stockings  she  was  darning)  lay  idle  in  her  lap,  and  in  her 
eyes  were  the  unshed  tears  which  are  the  greatest  suffering  of 
women.  I  sat  down  beside  her  and  called  her  name.  She  did 
not  seem  to  hear  me. 

"Patty!" 

She  started.     And  my  courage  ebbed. 

"Are  you  going  to  the  war  —  to  leave  us,  Richard?"  she 
faltered. 

"I  fear  there  is  no  choice,  Patty,"  I  answered,  striving  hard 
to  keep  my  own  voice  steady.  "  But  you  will  be  well  looked 
after.  Ivie  Rawlinson  is  to  be  trusted,  and  Mr.  Bordley  has 
promised  to  keep  an  eye  upon  you." 

She  took  up  the  darning  mechanically. 

"  I  shall  not  speak  a  word  to  keep  you,  Richard.  He  would 
have  wished  it,"  she  said  softly.  "And  every  strong  arm  in 
the  colonies  will  be  needed.  We  shall  think  of  you,  and  pray 
for  you  daily." 

I  cast  about  for  a  cheerful  rej)ly. 

"I  think  when  they  discover  how  determined  we  are,  they 
will  revoke  their  measures  in  a  hurry.  Before  you  know  it, 
Patty,  I  shall  be  back  again  making  the  rounds  in  my  broad 
rim,  and  reading  to  you  out  of  Captain  Cook." 


460  EICHAUD   CARVEL 

It  was  a  pitiful  attempt.  She  shook  her  head  sadly.  The 
tears  were  coine  now,  and  she  was  smiling  through  them, 
The  sorrow  of  that  smile ! 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you  before  I  go,  Patty,"  I  said. 
The  words  stuck.  I  knew  that  there  must  be  no  pretence  in 
that  speech.  It  must  be  true  as  my  life  after,  the  consequence 
of  it.  "I  have  something  to  ask  you,  and  I  do  not  speak 
without  your  father's  consent.  Patty,  if  I  return,  will  you 
be  my  wife?  " 

The  stocking  slipped  unheeded  to  the  floor.  Por  a  moment 
she  sat  transfixed,  save  for  the  tumultuous  swelling  of  her 
breast.  Then  she  turned  and  gazed  earnestly  into  my  face, 
and  the  honesty  of  her  eyes  smote  me.  For  the  first  time  I 
could  not  meet  them  honestly  with  my  own. 

"Richard,  do  you  love  me?"  she  asked. 

I  bowed  my  head.  I  could  not  answer  that.  And  for  a 
while  there  was  no  sound  save  that  of  the  singing  of  the  frogs 
in  the  distant  marsh. 

Presently  I  knew  that  she  was  standing  at  my  side.  I  felt 
her  hand  laid  upon  my  shoulder. 

"Is  —  is  it  Dorothy?"  she  said  gently. 

Still  I  could  not  answer.  Truly,  the  bitterness  of  life,  as 
the  joy  of  it,  is  distilled  in  strong  drops. 

"I  knew,"  she  continued,  "I  have  known  ever  since  that 
autumn  morning  when  I  went  to  you  as  you  saddled  —  when 
I  dreaded  that  you  would  leave  us.  Father  asked  you  to 
marry  me,  the  day  you  took  Mr.  Stewart  from  the  mob.  How 
could  you  so  have  misunderstood  me,  Richard?" 

I  looked  up  in  wonder.  The  sweet  cadence  in  her  tone 
sprang  from  a  purity  not  of  this  earth.  They  alone  who  have 
consecrated  their  days  to  others  may  utter  it.  And  the  light 
upon  her  face  was  of  the  same  source.  It  was  no  will  of  mine 
brought  me  to  my  feet.     But  I  was  not  worthy  to  touch  her. 

"  I  shall  make  another  prayer,  beside  that  for  your  safety, 
Richard,"  she  said. 

In  the  morning  she  waved  me  a  brave  farewell  from  the 
block  where  she  had  stood  so  often  as  I  rode  afield,  when  the 


FAKEWELL   TO   GORDON'S  461 

dawn  was  in  the  sky.  The  invalid  mother  sat  in  her  chair 
within  the  door;  the  servants  were  gathered  on  the  lawn,  and 
Ivie  Eawlinson  and  Banks  lingered  where  they  had  held  my 
stirrup.     That  picture  is  washed  with  my  own  tears. 

The  earth  was  praising  God  that  Sunday  as  I  rode  to  Mr. 
Bordley's.  And  as  it  is  sorrow  which  lifts  us  nearest  to 
heaven,  I  felt  as  if  I  were  in  church. 

I  arrived  at  Wye  Island  in  season  to  dine  with  the  good 
judge  and  his  family,  and  there  I  made  over  to  his  charge  the 
property  of  Patty  and  her  mother.  The  afternoon  we  spent 
in  sober  talk,  Mr.  Bordley  giving  me  much  sound  advice,  and 
writing  me  several  letters  of  recommendation  to  gentlemen  in 
Congress.  His  conduct  was  distinguished  by  even  more  of 
kindness  and  consideration  than  he  had  been  wont  to  show  me. 

In  the  evening  I  walked  out  alone,  skirting  the  acres  of 
Carvel  Hall,  each  familiar  landmark  touching  the  quick  of 
some  memory  of  other  days.  Childhood  habit  drew  me  into 
the  path  to  Wilmot  House.  I  came  upon  it  just  as  the  sun- 
light was  stretching  level  across  the  Chesapeake,  and  burning 
its  windows  molten  red.  I  had  been  sitting  long  on  the  stone 
steps,  when  the  gaunt  figure  of  McAndrews  strode  toward  me 
out  of  the  dusk. 

"God  be  gude  to  us,  it  is  Mr.  Richard!  "  he  cried.  "I  hae 
na  seen  j'e're  bonny  face  these  muckle  years,  sir,  syne  ye  cam' 
back  frae  ae  sight  o'  the  young  mistress."  (I  had  met  him  in 
Annapolis  then.)     "An'  will  ye  be  aff  to  the  wars?" 

I  told  him  yes.  That  I  had  come  for  a  last  look  at  the  old 
place  before  I  left. 

He  sighed,  "Ye're  vera  welcome,  sir."  Then  he  added: 
"Mr.  Bordley's  gi'en  me  a  fair  notion  o'  yere  management  at 
Gordon's.  The  judge  is  thinking  there'll  be  nane  ither  lad  t' 
hand  a  candle  to  ye." 

"And  what  news  do  you  hear  from  London?"  I  asked,  cut- 
ting him  short. 

"Ill  uncos,  sir,"  he  answered,  shaking  his  head  with  vio- 
lence. He  had  indeed  but  a  sorry  tale  for  my  ear,  and  one  to 
make  my  heart  heavier  than  it  was.  McAndrews  opened  his 
iOiind  to  me,  and  seemed  the  better  for  it.     How  Mr.  Marma- 


462  RICHARD   CARVEL  | 

duke  was  living  with  the  establishment  they  wrote  of  was 
more  than  the  honest  Scotchman  could  imagine.  There  was 
a  country  place  in  Sussex  now,  said  he,  that  was  the  latest. 
And  drafts  were  coming  in  before  the  wheat  was  in  the  ear; 
and  the  plantations  of  tobacco  on  the  Western  Shore  had  been 
idle  since  the  non-exportation,  and  were  mortgaged  to  their 
limit  to  Mr.  Willard.  Money  was  even  loaned  on  the  Wilmot 
House  estate.  McAndrews  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  neither 
Mrs.  Manners  nor  Miss  Dorothy  knew  aught  of  this  state  of 
affairs. 

"Mr.  Richard,"  he  said  earnestly,  as  he  bade  me  good-by,"I 
kennt  Mr.  Manners's  mind  when  he  lea'd  here.  There  was  a 
laird  in't,  sir,  an'  a  fortune.  An'  unless  these  come  soon, 
I'm  thinking  I  can  spae  th'  en'." 

In  truth,  a  much  greater  fool  than  McAndrews  might  have 
predicted  that  end. 

On  Monday  Judge  Bordley  accompanied  me  as  far  as  Ding- 
ley's  tavern,  and  showed  much  emotion  at  parting. 

"  You  need  have  no  fears  for  your  friends  at  Gordon's  Pride, 
Richard,"  said  he.  "And  when  the  General  comes  back,  I 
shall  try  to  give  him  a  good  account  of  my  stewardship." 

The  General!  That  title  brought  old  Stanwix's  cobwebbfed 
prophecy  into  my  head  again.  Here,  surely,  was  the  war 
which  he  had  foretold,  and  I  ready  to  embark  in  it. 

Why  not  the  sea,  indeed? 


CHAPTER  LI 

HOW    AN   IDLE    PROPHECY    CAME    TO    PASS 

Captain  Clapsaddle  not  being  at  his  lodgings,  I  rode  on 
to  the  Coffee  House  to  put  up  my  horse.  I  was  stopped  by 
Mr.  Claude. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Carvel,"  says  he,  "  I  thought  you  on  the  Eastern 
Shore.  There  is  a  gentleman  within  will  be  mightily  tickled 
to  see  you,  or  else  his  protestations  are  lies,  which  they  may 
very  well  be.  His  name?  Now,  'pon  my  faith,  it  was  Jones 
—  no  more." 

This  thing  of  being  called  for  at  the  Coffee  House  stirred 
up  unpleasant  associations. 

"What  appearance  does  the  man  make?"  I  demanded. 

"  Merciful  gad !  "  mine  host  exclaimed ;  "  once  seen,  never 
forgotten,  and  once  heard,  never  forgotten.  He  quotes  me 
Thomson,  and  he  tells  me  of  his  estate  in  Virginia." 

The  answer  was  not  of  a  sort  to  allay  my  suspicions. 

"  Then  he  appears  to  be  a  landowner  ?  "  said  I. 

"  'Ods !  Blest  if  I  know  what  he  is, "  says  Mr.  Claude.  "  He 
may  be  anything,  an  impostor  or  a  high-mightiness.  But  he's 
something  to  strike  the  eye  and  hold  it,  for  all  his  Quaker 
clothes.  He  is  swarth  and  thickset,  and  some  live  feet  eight 
inches  —  full  six  inches  under  your  own  height.  And  he 
comes  asking  for  you  as  if  you  owned  the  town  between  you. 
'  Send  a  fellow  to  Marlboro'  Street  for  Mr.  Kichard  Carvel,  my 
good  host! '  says  he,  with  a  snap  of  his  fingers.  And  when 
I  tell  him  the  news  of  you,  he  is  prodigiously  affected,  and 
cries  —  but  here's  my  gentleman  now!" 

I  jerked  my  head  around.  Coming  down  the  steps  I  beheld 
my  old  friend  and  benefactor,  Captain  John  Paul! 

463 


464  RICHAED   CARVEL 

"Ahoy,  ahoy!  "  cries  he.  "Now  Heaven  be  praised,  I  have 
found  you  at  last." 

Out  of  the  saddle  I  leaped,  and  straight  into  his  arms. 

"Hold,  hold,  Richard!"  he  gasped.  "My  ribs,  man! 
Leave  me  some  breath  that  I  may  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  to 
see  you." 

"Mr.  Jones!'"  I  said,  holding  him  out,  "now  where  the 
devil  got  you  that  ?  " 

"Why,  I  am  become  a  gentleman  since  I  saw  you,"  he  an- 
swered, smiling.  "  My  poor  brother  left  me  his  estate  in  Vir- 
ginia.   And  a  gentleman  must  have  three  names  at  the  least." 

I  dropped  his  shoulders  and  shook  with  laughter. 

"But  Jones  1^'  I  cried.  "'Ad's  heart!  could  you  go  no 
higher?     Has  your  imagination  left  you,  captain?" 

"Republican  simplicity,  sir,"  says  he,  looking  a  trifle  hurt. 
But  I  laughed  the  more. 

"Well,  you  have  contrived  to  mix  oil  and  vinegar,"  said  I. 
"A  landed  gentleman  and  republican  simplicity.  I'll  warrant 
you  wear  silk-knit  under  that  gray  homespun,  and  have  a  cameo 
in  your  pocket." 

He  shook  his  head,  looking  up  at  me  with  affection. 

"You  might  have  guessed  better,"  he  answered.  "All  of 
quality  I  have  about  me  are  an  enamelled  repeater  and  a  gold 
brooch." 

This  made  me  suddenly  grave,  for  McAndrcAvs's  words  had 
been  ringing  in  my  ears  ever  since  he  had  spoken  them.  I 
hitched  my  arm  into  the  captain's  and  pulled  him  toward  the 
Coffee  House  door, 

"Come,"  I  said,  "you  have  not  dined,  and  neither  have  I. 
We  shall  be  merry  to-day,  and  you  shall  have  some  of  the  best 
Madeira  in  the  colonies."  I  commanded  a  room,  that  we  might 
have  privacy.  As  he  took  his  seat  opposite  me  I  marked  that 
he  had  grown  heavier  and  more  browned.  But  his  eye  had 
the  same  unfathomable  mystery  in  it  as  of  yore.  And  first  I 
upbraided  him  for  not  having  writ  me. 

"I  took  you  for  one  who  glories  in  correspondence,  captain," 
said  I;  "and  I  did  not  think  you  could  be  so  unfaithful.  I 
directed  twice  to  you  in  Mr.  Orchardson's  care." 


HOW  A  PROPHECY  CAME   TO  PASS  465 

" Orchardson  died  before  I  had  made  one  voyage,"  he  re- 
plied, "  and  the  Betsy  changed  owners.  But  I  did  not  forget 
you,  Richard,  and  was  resolved  but  now  not  to  leave  Maryland 
until  I  had  seen  you.  But  I  burn  to  hear  of  you,"  he  added. 
"  1  have  had  an  inkling  of  your  story  from  the  landlord.  So 
your  grandfather  is  dead,  and  that  blustie,  your  uncle,  of  whom 
you  told  me  on  the  John,  is  in  possession." 

He  listened  to  my  narrative  keenly,  but  with  many  inter- 
ruptions.     And  when  I  was  done,  he  sighed. 

"You  are  always  finding  friends,  Richard,"  said  he;  "no 
matter  what  your  misfortunes,  they  are  ever  double  discounted. 
As  for  me,  I  am  like  Fulmer  in  Mr.  Cumberland's  'West 
Indian':  'I  have  beat  through  every  quarter  of  the  compass; 
I  have  bellowed  for  freedom;  I  have  offered  to  serve  my 
country;  I  have'  —  I  am  engaging  to  betray  it.  No,  Scot- 
land is  no  longer  my  country,  and  so  I  cannot  betray  her.  It 
is  she  who  has  betrayed  me." 

He  fell  into  a  short  mood  of  dejection.  And,  indeed,  I  could 
not  but  reflect  that  much  of  the  character  fitted  him  like  a 
jacket.  Not  the  betrayal  of  his  country.  He  never  did  that, 
no  matter  how  roundly  they  accused  him  of  it  afterward. 

To  lift  him,  I  cried:  — 

"  You  were  one  of  my  first  friends,  Captain  Paul  "  (I  could 
not  stomach  the  Jones);  "but  for  you  I  should  now  be  a  West 
Indian,  and  a  miserable  one,  the  slave  of  some  unmerciful 
hidalgo.     Here's  that  I  may  live  to  repay  you! " 

"And  while  we  are  upon  toasts,"  says  he,  bracing  immedi- 
ately, "I  give  you  the  immortal  Miss  Manners!  Her  beauty 
has  dwelt  unfaded  in  my  memory  since  I  last  beheld  her, 
aboard  the  Betsy."  Remarking  the  pain  in  my  face,  he  added, 
with  a  concern  which  may  have  been  comical;  "And  she  is  not 
married?" 

"Unless  she  is  lately  gone  to  Gretna,  she  is  not,"  I  replied, 
trying  to  speak  lightly. 

"Ala.ck!  I  knew  it,"  he  exclaimed.  "And  if  there's  any 
prophecy  in  my  bones,  she'll  be  Mrs.  Carvel  one  of  these 
days." 

"Well,  captain,"  I  said  abruptly,  "the  wheel  has  gone 
2h 


466  RICHAED  CARVEL 

around  since  I  saw  you.  Noav  it  is  you  who  are  the  gentle* 
man,  while  I  am  a  factor.     Is  it  the  bliss  you  pictured?" 

I  suspected  that  his  acres  were  not  as  broad,  nor  his  produce 
as  salable,  as  those  of  Mount  Vernon. 

"To  speak  truth,  I  am  heartily  tired  of  that  life,"  said  he. 
"Tliere  is  little  glory  in  raising  nicotia,  and  sipping  bumbo, 
and  cursing  negroes.  Ho  for  the  sea!"  he  cried.  "The  salt 
sea,  and  the  British  prizes.  Give  me  a  tight  frigate  that 
leaves  a  singing  wake.  Mark  me,  Richard,"  he  said,  a  rest- 
less gleam  coming  into  his  dark  eyes,  "  stirring  times  are  here, 
and  a  chance  for  all  of  us  to  make  a  name."  For  so  it  seemed 
ever  to  be  with  him. 

"They  are  black  times,  I  fear,"  I  answered. 

"  Black !  "  he  said.  "  No,  glorious  is  your  word.  And  we 
are  to  have  an  upheaval  to  throw  many  of  us  to  the  top." 

"I  would  rather  the  quarrel  were  peacefully  settled,"  said 
I,  gravely.  "For  my  j)art,  I  want  no  distinction  that  is  to 
come  out  of  strife  and  misery." 

He  regarded  me  quizzically. 

"  You  are  grown  an  hundred  years  old  since  I  pulled  you 
out  of  the  sea,"  says  he.  "But  we  shall  have  to  fight  for  our 
liberties.     Here  is  a  glass  to  the  prospect! " 

"And  so  you  are  now  an  American?"  I  said  curiously. 

"Ay,  strake  and  keelson, —  as  good  a  one  as  though  I  had 
got  my  sap  in  the  Maine  forests.  A  plague  of  monarchs,  say 
I.  They  are  a  blotch  upon  modern  civilization.  And  I  have 
here,"  he  continued,  tapping  his  pocket,  "some  letters  writ  to 
the  Virginia  printers,  signed  Demosthenes,  which  Mr.  Randolph 
and  Mr.  Henry  have  commended.  To  speak  truth,  Richard, 
I  am,  off  to  Congress  with  a  portmanteau  full  of  recommenda- 
tions. And  I  was  resolved  to  stop  here  even  till  I  secured 
your  company.  We  shall  sweep  the  seas  together,  and  so  let 
George  beware! " 

I  smiled.  But  my  blood  ra.n  faster  at  the  thought  of  sailing 
under  such  a  captain.  However,  I  made  the  remark  that 
Congress  had  as  yet  no  army,  let  alone  a  navy. 

"And  think  j^ou  that  gentlemen  of  such  spirit  and  resources 
will  lack  either  for  long?"  he  demanded,  his  eye  flashingo 


HOW  A  PROPHECY  CAME  TO  PASS  467 

"  Then  1  know  nothing  of  a  ship  save  the  little  I  learned  on 
the  John,"  I  said. 

"You  were  born  for  the  sea,  Eichard,"  he  exclaimed,  raising 
his  glass  high.  "And  I  would  rather  have  one  of  your  brains 
and  strength  and  handiness  than  any  merchant's  mate  I  ever 
sailed  with.  The  more  gentlemen  get  commissions,  the  better 
will  be  our  new  service." 

At  that  instant  came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  one  of  the 
inn  negroes  to  say  that  Captain  Clapsaddle  was  below,  and 
desired  to  see  me.  I  persuaded  John  Paul  to  descend  with 
me.  We  found  Captain  Daniel  seated  with  Mr.  Carroll,  the 
barrister,  and  Mr.  Cliase. 

"Captain,"  I  said  to  my  old  friend,  "I  have  a  rare  joy  this 
day  in  making  known  to  you  Mr.  John  Paul  Jones,  of  wliom  I 
have  spcken  to  you  a  score  of  times.  He  it  is  wliose  bravery 
sank  the  Black  Moll,  whose  charity  took  me  to  London,  and 
who  got  no  otlier  reward  for  his  faith  than  three  Aveeks  in  a 
debtors'  prison.  For  his  honour,  as  I  have  told  you,  would 
allow  him  to  accept  none,  nor  his  principles  to  take  the  com- 
mission in  the  Royal  Navy  wliicli  Mr.  Fox  offered  him." 

Captain  Daniel  rose,  his  honest  face  flushing  with  pleasure. 
"Faith,  Mr.  Jones,"  he  cried,  when  John  Paul  had  finished 
one  of  his  elaborate  bows,  "this  is  well  met,  indeed.  I  have 
been  longing  these  many  years  for  a  chance  to  press  your  hand, 
and  in  the  names  of  those  who  are  dead  and  gone  to  express 
my  gratitude." 

"I  have  my  reward  now,  captain,"  replied  John  Paul;  "a 
sight  of  you  is  to  have  Richard's  whole  life  revealed.  And 
what  says  Mr,  Congreve?  — 

"  '  For  blessings  ever  wait  on  virtuous  deeds, 
And  tho'  a  late,  a  sure  reward  succeeds,' 

The*  I  would  not  have  you  believe  that  my  deed  was  virtuous. 
And  you,  who  know  Richard,  may  form  some  notion  of  the 
pleasure  I  had  out  of  his  companionship." 

I  hastened  to  present  my  friend  to  the  other  gentlemen,  who 
welcomed  him  with  warmth,  though  they  could  not  keep  theit 
amusement  wholly  out  of  their  faces. 


468  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Mr.  Jones  is  now  the  possessor  of  an  estate  in  Virginia, 
sirs,"  I  explained. 

"  And  do  you  find  it  more  to  your  taste  than  seafaring,  Mr. 
Jones?"  inquired  Mr.  Chase. 

This  brought  forth  a  most  vehement  protest,  and  another 
quotation. 

"Why,  sir,"  he  cried,  "to  be 

*' '  Fixed  like  a  plant  on  his  peculiar  spot, 
To  draw  nutrition,  propagate,  and  rot,' 

IS  an  animal's  existence.  I  have  thrown  it  over,  sir,  with  a 
right  good  will,  and  am  now  on  my  way  to  Philadelphia  to 
obtain  a  commission  in  the  navy  soon  to  be  born." 

Mr.  Chase  smiled.  John  Paul  little  suspected  that  he  was 
a  member  of  the  Congress. 

"This  is  news  indeed,  Mr.  Jones,"  he  said.  "1  have  yet  to 
hear  of  the  birth  of  this  infant  navy,  for  which  we  have  not 
yet  begun  to  make  swaddling  clothes." 

"We  are  not  yet  an  infant  state,  sir,"  Mr.  Carroll  put  in, 
with  a  shade  of  rebuke.  For  Maryland  was  well  content  with 
the  government  she  had  enjoyed,  and  her  best  patriots  long 
after  shunned  the  length  of  secession.  "  I  believe  and  pray 
that  the  King  will  come  to  his  senses.  And  as  for  the  navy, 
it  is  folly.  How  can  we  hope  to  compete  with  England  on  the 
sea?  " 

"All  great  things  must  have  a  beginning  sir,"  replied  John 
Paul,  launching  forth  at  once,  nothing  daunted  by  such  cold 
conservatism'.  "  What  Israelite  brickmaker  of  Pharaoh's 
dreamed  of  Solomon's  temple?  Nay,  Moses  himself  had  no 
conception  of  it.  And  God  will  send  us  our  pillars  of  cloud 
and  of  fire.  We  must  be  reconciled  to  our  great  destiny,  Mr. 
Carroll.  No  fight  ever  was  won  by  man  or  nation  content 
with  half  a  victory.  We  have  forests  to  build  an  hundred 
armadas,  and  I  will  command  a  fleet  and  it  is  given  me." 

The  gentlemen  listened  in  astonishment. 

"I'  faith,  I  believe  you,  sir,"  cried  Captain  Daniel,  with 
admiration. 

The  others,  too,  were  somehow  fallen  under  the  spell  of  this 


HOW  A  PROPHECY   CAME   TO  PASS  469 

remarkable  individuality.  "What  plan  would  you  pursue, 
sir?"  asked  Mr.  Chase,  betraying  more  interest  than  he  cared 
to  show. 

"  What  plan,  sir!  "  said  Captain  John  Paul,  those  wonderful 
eyes  of  his  alight.  "  In  the  first  place,  we  Americans  build 
the  fastest  ships  in  the  world,  —  yours  of  the  Cliesapeake  are 
as  fleet  as  any.  Here,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  one  hundred  and 
eighty-two  were  built  in  the  year  '71.  They  are  idle  now. 
To  them  I  would  issue  letters  of  marque,  to  harry  England's 
trade.  Erom  Carolina  to  Maine  we  have  the  wood  and  iron  to 
build  cruisers,  in  harbours  that  may  not  easily  be  got  at.  And 
skilled  masters  and  seamen  to  elude  the  enemy." 

"But  a  navy  must  be  organized,  sir.  It  must  be  an  unit," 
objected  Mr.  Carroll.  "And  you  Avould  not  for  many  years 
have  force  enough,  or  discipline  enough,  to  meet  England's 
navy." 

"I  would  never  meet  it,  sir,"  he  replied  instantly.  "That 
would  be  the  height  of  folly.  I  would  divide  our  forces  into 
small,  swift-sailing  squadrons,  of  strength  sufficient  to  repel 
his  cruisers.  And  I  would  carry  the  war  straight  into  his 
unprotected  ports  of  trade.  I  can  name  a  score  of  such 
defenceless  places,  and  I  know  every  shoal  of  their  harbours. 
For  example,  Whitehaven  might  be  entered.  That  is  a  town 
of  fifty  thousand  inhabitants.  The  fleet  of  merchantmen  might 
with  the  greatest  ease  be  destroyed,  a  contribution  levied,  and 
Ireland's  coal  cut  off  for  a  winter.  The  whole  of  the  shipping 
might  be  swept  out  of  the  Clyde.  Newcastle  is  another  likely 
place,  and  in  almost  any  of  the  Irish  ports  valuable  vessels 
may  be  found.  The  Baltic  and  West  Indian  fleets  are  to  be 
intercepted.  I  have  reflected  upon  these  matters  for  years, 
gentlemen.  They  are  perfectly  feasible.  And  I'll  warrant 
you  cannot  conceive  the  havoc  and  consternation  their  fulfil- 
ment would  spread  in  England." 

If  the  divine  power  of  genius  ever  made  itself  felt,  'twas 
on  that  May  evening,  at  candle-light,  in  the  Annapolis  Coffee 
House.  With  my  own  eyes  I  witnessed  two  able  and  cautious 
statesmen  of  a  cautious  province  thrilled  to  the  pitch  of  en- 
thusiasm by  this  strange  young  man  of  eight  and  twenty.     As 


470  RICHARD   CARVEL 

for  good  Captain  Daniel,  enthusiasm  is  but  a  poor  word  to 
express  liis  feelings.  A  map  was  sent  for  and  spread  out  upon 
the  table.  And  it  was  a  late  hour  when  Mr.  Chase  and  Mr. 
Carroll  went  home,  profoundly  impressed.  Mr.  Chase  charged 
John  Paul  look  him  up  in  Congress. 

The  next  morning  I  bade  Captain  Daniel  a  solemn  good-by, 
and  rode  away  with  John  Paul  to  Baltimore.  Thence  we  took 
stage  to  New  Castle  on  the  Delaware,  and  were  eventually 
landed  by  Mr.  Tatlow's  stage-boat  at  Crooked  Billet  wharf, 
Philadelphia. 


A  BRIEF  SUMMARY,  WHICH  BRINGS  THIS  BIOGRAPHY  TO 
THE  FAMOUS  FIGHT  OF  THE  BON  HOMME  BICHABD 
AND    THE    SEEAPIS 

Bt  Daniel  Clapsaddle  Carvel 

Mr.  Richard  Carvel  refers  here  to  the  narrative  of  his  experiences  in 
the  War  of  the  Revokition,  whicli  he  had  written  in  the  year  1805  or  1806. 
The  insertion  of  that  account  would  swell  this  book,  already  too  long,  out 
of  all  proportion.  Heuce  I  take  it  upon  myself,  witli  apologies,  to  com- 
press it. 

Not  until  October  of  that  yea.r,  1775,  was  the  infant  navy  born.  Mr. 
Carvel  was  occupied  in  the  interval  in  the  acquireuient  of  practical  sea- 
manship and  the  theory  of  maritime  warfare  under  the  most  competent 
of  instructors,  John  Paul  Jones.  An  interesting  side  light  is  thrown  upon 
the  character  of  that  hero  by  the  fact  that,  with  all  liis  supreme  confidence 
in  his  ability,  he  applied  to  Congi-ess  only  for  a  first  lieutenancy.  This 
was  in  deference  to  the  older  men  before  that  body.  "  I  hoped,"  said  he, 
"in  that  rank  to  gain  much  useful  knowledge  from  those  of  more  expe- 
rience than  myself."  His  lack  of  assertion  for  once  cost  him  dear.  He 
sailed  on  the  New  Providence  expedition  under  Commodore  Hopkins  as 
first  lieutenant  of  the  Alfred^  thirty ;  and  he  soon  discovered  that,  instead 
of  gaining  information,  he  was  obliged  to  inform  others.  He  trained  the 
men  so  thoroughly  in  the  use  of  the  great  guns  "  that  they  went  through 
the  motions  of  broadsides  and  rounds  exactly  as  soldiers  generally  per- 
form the  manual  exercise." 

Captain  Jones  was  not  long  in  fixing  the  attention  and  earning  the 
gratitude  of  the  nation,  and  of  its  Commander-in-Chief,  General  Wash- 
ington. While  in  command  of  the  Providence,  twelve  four-pounders,  hia 
successful  elusions  of  the  Cerberus,  which  hounded  him,  and  his  escape 


HOW  A  PROPHECY  CAME   TO  PASS  471 

from  the  Solebay,  are  too  famous  to  be  dwelt  upon  here.  Obtaining  the 
Alfred,  he  captured  and  brought  into  Boston  ten  thousand  suits  of  uni 
form  for  Washington's  shivering  army.  Then,  by  tlie  bungling  of  Congress, 
thirteen  officers  were  promoted  over  his  head.  The  bitterness  this  act 
engendered  in  the  soul  of  one  whose  thirst  for  distinction  was  as  gi-eat  as 
Captain  Jones's  may  be  imagined.  To  his  everlasting  credit  be  it  recorded 
that  lie  remained  true  to  the  country  to  which  he  had  dedicated  his  life 
and  his  talents.  And  it  was  not  until  1781  that  he  got  the  justice  due 
him. 

That  the  rough  and  bluff  captains  of  the  American  service  should  have 
regarded  a  man  of  Paul  Jones's  type  with  suspicion  is  not  surprising. 
They  resented  his  polish  and  accomplishments,  and  could  not  understand 
his  language.  Perhaps  it  was  for  this  reason,  as  well  as  a  reward  for  his 
brilliant  services,  that  he  was  always  given  a  separate  command.  In  the 
summer  of  1777  he  was  singled  out  for  thehigliest  gift  in  the  power  of  the 
United  States,  nothing  less  tlian  tliat  of  the  magnificent  frigate  Indien, 
then  building  at  Amsterdam.  And  he  w-as  ordered  to  France  in  com- 
mand of  the  Banger,  a  new  ship  then  fitting  at  Portsmouth.  Captain 
Jones  was  the  admiration  of  all  the  young  officers  in  the  navy,  and  was 
immediately  flooded  with  requests  to  sail  with  him.  One  of  his  first  acts, 
after  receiving  his  command,  was  to  apply  to  the  Marine  Committee  for 
Mr.  Carvel.     The  favour  was  granted. 

My  grandfather  had  earned  much  commendation  from  his  superiors. 
He  had  sailed  two  cruises  as  master's  mate  of  the  Cabot,  and  was  then 
serving  as  master  of  the  Trumlmll,  Captain  Saltonstall.  This  was  shortly 
after  that  frigate  had  captured  the  two  British  transports  off  New  York. 

Captain  Jones  has  been  at  pains  to  mention  in  his  letters  the  services 
rendered  him  by  Mr.  Carvel  in  fitting  out  the  Banger.  And  my  grand- 
father gives  a  striking  picture  of  the  captain.  At  that  time«the  privateers, 
with  the  larger  inducements  of  profit  they  offered,  w^ere  getting  all'  the 
best  seamen.  John  Paul  had  but  to  take  two  turns  with  a  man  across  the 
dock,  and  he  would  sign  papers. 

Captain  Jones  was  the  first  to  raise  the  new  flag  of  the  stars  and  stripes 
over  a  !nan-o'-war.  They  got  away  on  November  14,  1777,  with  a  fair 
crew  and  a  poor  lot  of  officers.  Mr.  Carvel  had  many  a  brush  with  the 
mutinous  first  lieutenant  Simpson.  Family  influence  deterred  the  cap- 
tain from  placing  this  man  under  arrest,  and  even  Dr.  Franklm  found 
trouble,  some  years  after,  in  bringing  about  his  dismissal  from  tlie  service. 
To  add  to  the  troubles,  the  Banger  proved  crank  and  slow-sailing :  and 
she  had  only  one  barrel  of  rum  aboard,  which  made  the  men  discon- 
tented. 

Bringing  the  official  news  of  Burgoyne's  surrender,  which  was  to  cause 
King  Louis  to  acknowledge  the  independence  of  the  United  States,  the 
Banger  arrived  at  Nantes,  December  2.  Mr.  Carvel  accompanied  Cap- 
tain Jones  to  Paris,  where  a  serious  blow  awaited  him.     The  American 


472  EICHARD   CAEVEL 

Commissioners  informed  him  that  the  Indien  had  been  transferred  to 
France  to  prevent  her  confiscation.  That  winter  John  Paul  spent  striv- 
ing in  vain  for  a  better  ship,  and  imbibing  tactics  from  the  French  admi- 
rals.  Incidentally,  he  obtained  a  salute  for  the  American  flag.  The 
cruise  of  the  Banger  in  English  waters  the  following  spring  was  a  strik- 
ing fulfilment,  with  an  absurdly  poor  and  inadequate  force,  of  the  plan 
set  forth  by  John  Paul  Jones  in  the  Annapolis  Coffee  House.  His  descent 
upon  Whitehaven  spread  terror  and  consternation  broadcast  through 
England,  and  he  was  branded  as  a  pirate  and  a  traitor.  Mr.  Carvel  was 
fortunately  not  of  the  landing  party  on  St.  Mary's  Isle,  which  place  he 
had  last  beheld  in  John  Paul's  company,  on  the  brigantine  John,  when 
entering  Kirkcudbright.  The  object  of  that  expedition,  as  is  well  known, 
was  to  obtain  the  person  of  the  Earl  of  Selkirk,  in  order  to  bring  about 
the  rescue  of  the  unfortunate  Americans  suffering  in  British  prisons. 
After  the  celebrated  capture  of  the  sloop-of-war  Drake,  Paul  Jones  re- 
turned to  Fi'ance  a  hero. 

If  Captain  Jones  was  ambitious  of  personal  glory,  he  may  never,  at 
least,  be  accused  of  mercenary  motives.  The  ragged  crew  of  the  Banger 
was  paid  in  part  out  of  his  own  pocket,  and  for  a  whole  month  he  sup- 
ported the  Drake''s  officers  and  men,  no  provision  having  been  made  for 
prisoners.  He  was  at  large  expense  in  fitting  out  the  Banger,  and  he 
bought  back  at  twice  what  it  was  worth  the  plate  taken  from  St.  Mary's 
Isle,  getting  but  a  tardy  recognition  from  the  Earl  of  Selkirk  for  such  a 
noble  and  unheard-of  action.  And,  I  take  pride  in  writing  it,  Mr.  Carvel 
spent  much  of  what  he  had  earned  at  Gordon's  Pride  in  a  like  honourable 
manner. 

Mr.  Carvel's  description  of  the  hero's  reception  at  Versailles  is  graphic 
and  very  humorous.  For  all  his  republican  principles  John  Paul  never 
got  over  his  love  of  courts,  and  no  man  was  ever  a  more  thorough  courtier. 
He  exchanged  compliments  with  Queen  Marie  Antoinette,  who  was  then 
in  the  bloom  of  her  beauty,  and  declared  that  "she  was  a  good  girl,  and 
deserved  to  be  happy." 

The  unruly  Simpson  sailed  for  America  in  the  Banger  in  July,  Captain 
Jones  being  retained  in  France  "for  a  particular  enterprise."  And 
through  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Carvel  remained  with  him. 
Then  followed  another  period  of  heartrending  disappointment.  The  fine 
ship  the  French  government  promised  him  was  not  forthcoming,  though 
Captain  Jones  wrote  a  volume  of  beautiful  letters  to  every  one  of  impor- 
tance, from  her  Royal  Highness  the  Duchess  of  Chartres  to  his  Most 
Christian  Majesty,  Louis,  King  of  France  and  Navarre.  At  length,  when 
he  was  sitting  one  day  in  unusual  dejection  and  railing  at  the  vanity  of 
courts  and  kings,  Mr.  Carvel  approached  him  with  a  book  in  his  hand. 

"  What  have  you  there,  Richard  ?  "  the  captain  demanded. 

"Dr.  Franklin's  Maxims,"  replied  my  grandfather.  They  were  great 
favourites  with  him.     The  captain  took  the  book  and  began  mechanically 


HOW  A  PKOPHECY  CAME   TO  PASS  473 

to  turn  oyer  the  pages.  Suddenly  he  closed  it  with  a  bang,  jumped  up, 
and  put  on  his  coat  and  hat.     Mr.  Carvel  looked  on  in  astonishment. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  sir  ?  "  says  he. 

"  To  Paris,  sir,"  says  the  captain.  "  Dr.  Franklin  has  taught  me  more 
wisdom  in  a  s'^cond  than  I  had  in  all  my  life  before.  '  If  you  wish  to 
have  any  business  faithfully  and  expeditiously  performed,  go  and  do  it 
yourself;  otherwise,  send.'  " 

As  a  result  of  that  trip  he  got  the  Buras,  which  he  renamed  the  Bon 
homme  Bichard  in  honour  of  Dr.  Franklin.  The  Duras  was  an  ancient 
Indianian  with  a  high  poop,  which  made  my  grandfather  exclaim,  when 
he  saw  her,  at  the  remarkable  fulfilment  of  old  Stanwix's  prophecy. 
She  was  perfectly  rotten,  and  in  the  constructor's  opinion  not  worth 
refitting.  Her  lowest  deck  (too  low  for  the  purpose)  was  pierced  aft 
with  three  ports  on  a  side,  and  six  worn-out  eighteen-pounders  mounted 
ihere.  Some  of  them  burst  in  the  action,  killing  their  people.  The  main 
battery,  on  the  deck  above,  was  composed  of  twenty-eight  twelve-pounders. 
On  the  uncovered  deck  eight  nine-pounders  were  mounted.  Captain  Jones 
again  showed  his  desire  to  serve  the  cause  by  taking  such  a  ship,  and  not 
waiting  for  something  better. 

In  the  meantime  the  American  frigate  Alliance  had  brought  Lafayette 
to  France,  and  was  added  to  the  little  squadron  that  was  to  sail  with  the 
Bon  homme  Richard.  One  of  the  most  fatal  mistakes  Congress  ever  made 
was  to  put  Captain  Pierre  Landais  in  command  of  her,  out  of  compliment 
to  the  Fi-ench  allies.  He  was  a  man  whose  temper  and  vagaries  had  failed 
to  get  him  a  command  in  his  own  navy.  His  insulting  conduct  and 
treachery  to  Captain  Jones  are  strongly  attested  to  in  Mr.  Carvel's  manu- 
script :  they  were  amply  proved  by  the  written  statements  of  other  officers. 

The  squadron  sailed  from  L'Orient  in  June,  but  owing  to  a  collision 
between  the  Bon  homme  Bichard  and  the  Alliance  it  was  forced  to  put 
back  into  the  Groix  roads  for  repairs.  Nails  and  rivets  were  with  difficulty 
got  to  hold  in  the  sides  of  the  old  Indiaman.  On  August  llth  John  Paul 
Jones  again  set  sail  for  English  waters,  with  the  following  vessels  :  Alliance, 
thirty-six  ;  Pallas,  thirty  ;  Cei-f,  eighteen  ;  Vengeance,  twelve  ;  and  two 
French  privateers.  Owing  to  the  humiliating  conditions  imposed  upon 
him  by  the  French  Minister  of  Marine,  Commodore  Jones  did  not  have 
absolute  command.  In  a  gale  on  the  26th  the  two  privateers  and  the 
Cerf  parted  company,  never  to  return.  After  the  most  outrageous  con- 
duct off  the  coast  of  Ireland,  Landais,  in  the  Alliance,  left  the  squadron  on 
September  6th,  and  did  not  reappear  until  the  23d,  the  day  of  the  battle. 

Mr.  Carvel  was  the  third  lieutenant  of  the  Bon  homme  Bichard,  tho' 
he  served  as  second  in  the  action.  Her  first  lieutenant  (afterwards  the 
celebrated  Commodore  Richard  Dale)  was  a  magnificent  man,  one  worthy 
in  every  respect  of  the  captain  he  served.  When  the  hour  of  battle 
arrived,  these  two  and  the  sailing  master,  and  a  number  of  raw  midship- 
men, were  the  only  line-officers  left,  and  two  French  officers  of  marines. 


474  EICHARD   CARVEL 

The  rest  had  been  lost  in  various  ways.  And  the  crew  of  the  Bon  homme 
Bichard  was  as  sorry  a  lot  as  ever  trod  a  deck.  Less  than  three  score  of 
the  seamen  were  American  born  ;  near  four  score  were  British,  inclusive 
of  sixteen  Irish  ;  one  hundred  and  thirty-seven  were  French  soldiers,  who 
acted  as  marines;  and  the  rest  of  the  three  hundred  odd  souls  to  fight  her 
were  from  all  over  the  earth,  —  Malays  and  Maltese  and  Portuguese.  In 
the  hold  were  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  English  prisoners. 

This  was  a  vessel  and  a  force,  truly,  with  which  to  conquer  a  fifty-gun 
ship  of  the  latest  type,  and  with  a  picked  crew. 

Mr.  Carvel's  chapter  opens  with  Landais's  sudden  reappearance  on  the 
morning  of  the  day  the  battle  was  fought.  He  shows  the  resentment  and 
anger  against  the  Frenchman  felt  by  all  on  board,  from  cabin-boy  to  com- 
modore. But  none  went  so  far  as  to  accuse  the  captain  of  the  Alliance  of 
such  supreme  treachery  as  he  was  to  show  during  the  action.  Cowardice 
may  have  been  in  part  responsible  for  his  holding  aloof  from  the  two  duels 
in  which  the  Bichard  and  the  Pallas  engaged.  But  the  fact  that  he  poured 
broadsides  into  the  Bichard,  and  into  her  off  side,  makes  it  seem  probable 
that  his  motive  was  to  sink  the  commodore's  ship,  and  so  get  the  credit  of 
saving  the  day,  to  the  detriment  of  the  hero  who  won  it  despite  all  disas- 
ters. To  account  for  the  cry  that  was  raised  when  first  she  attacked  the 
Bichard,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  crew  of  the  Alliance  was 
largely  composed  of  Englishmen.  It  was  thought  that  these  had  mutinied 
and  taken  her. 


I 


CHAPTER  LIl 

HOW  THE  gardener's  SON  FOUGHT  THE  "SERAPIS" 

When  I  came  on  deck  the  next  morning  our  yards  were 
a-drip  with  a  clammy  fog,  and  under  it  the  sea  was  roughed 
by  a  southwest  breeze.  We  were  standing  to  the  northward 
before  it.  I  remember  reflecting  as  I  paused  in  the  gangway 
that  the  day  was  Thursday,  September  the  23d,  and  that  we 
were  near  two  months  out  of  Groix  with  this  tub  of  an  India- 
man.  In  all  that  time  we  had  not  so  much  as  got  a  whiff  of 
an  English  frigate,  though  we  had  almost  put  a  belt  around 
the  British  Isles.  Then  straining  my  eyes  through  the  mist, 
I  made  out  two  white  blurs  of  sails  on  our  starboard  beam. 
Honest  Jack  Pearce,  one  of  the  few  good  seamen  we  had 
aboard,  was  rubbing  down  one  of  the  nines  beside  me. 

"Why,  Jack,"  said  I,  "what  have  we  there?  Another 
prize?"  For  that  question  had  become  a  joke  on  board  the 
Bon  homme  Richard  since  the  prisoners  ha  J  reached  an  hun- 
dred and  fifty,  and  half  our  crew  was  gone  to  man  the  ships. 

"Bless  your  'art,  no,  sir,"  said  he.  "'Tis  that  damned 
Erenchy  Landais  in  th'  Alliance.  She  turns  up  with  the  Pallas 
at  six  bells  o'  the  middle  watch." 

"So  he's  back,  is  he?" 

"Ay,  he's  back,"  he  returned,  with  a  grunt  that  was  half  a 
growl;  "arter  three  weeks  breakin'  o'  liberty.  I  tell  'ee 
what,  sir,  them  Erenchies  is  treecherous  devils,  an'  not  to  be 
trusted  the  len'th  of  a  lead  line.  An'  they  beant  seamen  eno' 
to  keep  a  full  an'  by  with  all  their  takteek.  Ez  fer  that 
Landais,  I  hearn  him  whinin'  at  the  commodore  in  the  round 
house  when  we  was  off  Clear,  an'  sayin'  as  how  he  would  tell 
Sartin  on  us  when  he  gets  back  to  Paree.     An'  jabberin  to  th' 

475 


476  EICHARD   CARVEL 

other  Frenchmen  as  was  there  that  this  here  butter-cask  was 
er  King's  ship,  an'  that  the  commodore  weren't  no  commodore 
nohow.  They  say  as  how  Cap'n  Jones  be  bound  up  in  a  hard 
knot  by  some  articles  of  agreement,  an'  daresn't  punish  him. 
Be  that  so,  Mr.  Carvel?" 

I  said  that  it  was. 

"Shiver  my  bulkheads!"  cried  Jack,  "I  gave  my  oath  to 
that  same,  sir.  Por  I  knowed  the  commodore  was  the  lad  t' 
string  'em  to  the  yard-arm  an'  he  had  the  say  on  it.  Oh,  the 
devil  take  the  Frenchies,"  said  Jack,  rolling  his  quid  to  show 
his  pleasure  of  the  topic,  "they  sits  on  their  bottoms  in  Brest 
and  L'Oriong  an'  talks  takteek  wi'  their  ban's  and  mouths, 
and  daresn't  as  much  as  show  the  noses  o'  their  three-deckers 
in  th'  Bay  o'  Biscay,  while  Cap'n  Jones  pokes  his  bowsprit 
into  every  port  in  England  with  a  hulk  the  rats  have  left. 
I've  had  my  bellyful  o'  Frenchies,  Mr.  Carvel,  save  it  be  to 
fight  'em.  An'  I  tell  'ee  'twould  give  me  the  greatest  joy  in 
life  t'  leave  loose  Scolding  Sairy  at  that  there  Landais.  Th' 
gal  ain't  had  a  match  on  her  this  here  cruise,  an'  t'  my  mind 
she  couldn't  be  christened  better,  sir." 

I  left  him  patting  the  gun  with  a  tender  affection. 

The  scene  on  board  was  quiet  and  peaceful  enough  that 
morning.  A  knot  of  midshipmen  on  the  forecastle  were  dis- 
cussing Landais's  conduct,  and  cursing  the  concordat  which 
prevented  our  commodore  from  bringing  him  up  short.  Mr. 
Stacey,  the  sailing-master,  had  the  deck,  and  the  coasting  pilot 
was  conning;  now  and  anon  the  boatswain's  whistle  piped  for 
Garrett  or  Quito  or  Fogg  to  lay  aft  to  the  mast,  where  the  first 
lieutenant  stood  talking  to  Colonel  de  Chamillard,  of  the  French 
marines.  The  scavengers  were  sweeping  down,  and  part  of  the 
after  guard  was  bending  a  new  bolt-rope  on  a  storm  staysail. 

Then  the  fore-topmast  crosstrees  reports  a  sail  on  the 
weather  quarter,  the  Richard  is  brought  around  on  the  wind, 
and  away  we  go  after  a  brigantine,  "  flying  like  a  snow  laden 
with  English  bricks,"  as  Midshipman  Coram  jokingly  remarks. 
A  chase  is  not  such  a  novelty  with  us  that  we  crane  our  necks 
to  windward. 

At  noon,  when  I  relieved  Mr.  Stacey  of  the  deck,  the  sun 


THE   "SEEAPIS"  477 

had  eaten  up  the  fog,  and  the  shores  of  England  stood  out 
boldly.  Spurn  Head  was  looming  up  across  our  bows,  while 
that  of  Flamborough  jutted  into  the  sea  behind  us.  I  had  the 
starboard  watch  piped  to  dinner,  and  reported  twelve  o'clock 
to  the  commodore.  And  had  just  got  permission  to  "make 
it,"  according  to  a  time-honoured  custom  at  sea,  when  another 
"  Sail,  ho !  "  came  down  from  aloft. 

"Where  away?"  called  back  Mr.  Linthwaite,  who  was  mid- 
shipman of  the  forecastle. 

"  Starboard  quarter,  rounding  Flamborough  Head,  sir.  Looks 
like  a  full-rigged  ship,  sir." 

I  sent  the  messenger  into  the  great  cabin  to  report.  He 
was  barely  out  of  sight  before  a  second  cry  came  from  the 
masthead:  "Another  sail  rounding  Flamborough,  sir!" 

The  officers  on  deck  hurried  to  the  taft'rail.  I  had  my  glass, 
but  not  a  dot  was  visible  above  the  sea-line.  The  messenger 
was  scarcely  back  again  when  there  came  a  third  hail:  "Two 
more  rounding  the  head,  sir!     Four  in  all,  sir!  " 

Here  was  excitement  indeed.  Without  waiting  for  instruc- 
tions, I  gave  the  command :  — 

"  Up  royal  yards !     Eoyal  yardmen  in  the  tops !  " 

We  were  already  swaying  out  of  the  chains,  when  Lieutenant 
Dale  appeared  and  asked  the  coasting  pilot  what  fleet  it  was. 
He  answered  that  it  was  the  Baltic  fleet,  under  convoy  of  the 
Countess  of  Scarborough,  twenty  guns,  and  the  Serapis,  forty- 
four. 

"Forty-four,"  repeated  Mr.  Dale,  smiling  ;  "that  means 
fifty,  as  English  frigates  are  rated.  We  shall  have  our  hands 
full  this  day,  my  lads,"  said  he.  "You  have  done  well  to  get 
the  royals  on  her,  Mr.  Carvel." 

While  he  was  yet  speaking,  three  more  sail  were  reported 
from  aloft.  Then  there  was  a  hush  on  deck,  and  the  commo- 
dore himself  appeared.  As  he  reached  the  poop  we  saluted 
him  and  informed  him  of  what  had  happened. 

"  The  Baltic  fleet,"  said  he,  promptly.  "  Call  away  the  pilot- 
boat  with  Mr.  Lunt  to  follow  the  brigantine,  sir,  and  ease  off 
before  the  wind.  Signal  'General  Chase'  to  the  squadron, 
Mr.  Mayrant." 


478  RICHAKD  CAEVEL 

The  men  had  jumped  to  the  weather  braces  before  I  gave 
the  command,  and  all  the  while  more  sail  were  counting  from 
the  crosstrees,  until  their  number  had  reached  forty-one.  The 
news  spread  over  the  ship;  the  starboard  watch  trooped  up 
with  their  dinners  half  eaten.  Then  a  faint  booming  of  guns 
drifted  down  upon  our  ears. 

"  They've  got  siglit  of  us,  sir,"  shouted  the  lookout.  "  They 
be  firing  guns  to  windward,  an'  letting  fly  their  topgallant 
sheets." 

At  that  the  commodore  hurried  forward,  the  men  falling  back 
to  the  bulwarks  respectfully,  and  he  mounted  the  fore-rigging 
as  agile  as  any  topman,  followed  by  his  aide  with  a  glass. 
From  the  masthead  he  sung  out  to  me  to  set  our  stu'nsails, 
and  he  remained  aloft  till  near  seven  bells  of  the  watch.  At 
that  hour  the  merchantmen  had  all  scuttled  to  safety  behind 
the  head,  and  from  the  deck  a  great  yellow  King's  frigate  could 
be  plainly  seen  standing  south  to  meet  us,  followed  by  her 
smaller  consort.  Presently  she  hove  to,  and  through  our 
glasses  we  discerned  a  small  boat  making  for  her  side,  and 
then  a  man  clambering  up  her  sea-ladder. 

"That  be  the  bailiff  of  Scarborough,  sir,"  said  the  coasting 
pilot,  "come  to  tell  her  cap'n  'tis  Paul  Jones  he  has  to  fight." 

At  that  moment  the  commodore  lay  down  from  aloft,  and 
our  hearts  beat  high  as  he  walked  swiftly  aft  to  the  quarter- 
deck, where  he  paused  for  a  word  with  Mr.  Dale.  Meanwhile 
Mr.  Mayrant  hove  out  the  signal  for  the  squadron  to  form  line 
of  battle. 

"Eecall  the  pilot-boat,  Mr.  Carvel,"  said  the  commodore, 
quietly.  "  Then  you  may  beat  to  quarters,  and  I  will  take  the 
ship,  sir." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir."  I  raised  my  trumpet.  "All  hands  dear  ship 
for  action  !  " 

It  makes  me  sigh  now  to  think  of  the  cheer  which  burst  from 
that  tatterdemalion  crew.  Who  were  they  to  fight  the  bone 
and  sinew  of  the  King's  navy  in  a  rotten  ship  of  an  age  gone 
by?  And  who  was  he,  that  stood  so  straight  upon  the  quar- 
ter-deck, to  instil  this  scum  with  love  and  worship  and  fervour 
to  blind  them  to  such  odds?     But  the  bo'suns  piped  and  sang 


THE   "SERAPIS"  479 

out  the  command  in  fog-horn  voices,  the  drums  beat  the  long 
roll  and  the  fifes  whistled,  and  tlie  decks  became  suddenly 
alive.  Breechings  were  loosed  and  gun-tackles  uulashed,  ram- 
mer and  sponge  laid  out,  and  pike  and  pistol  and  cutlass  placed 
Avhere  they  would  be  handy  when  the  time  came  to  rush  the 
enemy's  decks.  The  powder-monkeys  tumbled  over  each  other 
in  their  hurry  to  provide  cartridges,  and  grape  and  canister 
and  double-headed  shot  were  hoisted  up  from  below.  The 
trimmers  rigged  the  splinter  nettings,  got  oat  spare  spars  and 
blocks  and  ropes  against  those  that  were  sure  to  be  shot  away, 
and  rolled  up  casks  of  water  to  put  out  the  fires.  Tubs  were 
filled  with  sand,  for  blood  is  slippery  upon  the  boards.  The 
French  marines,  their  scarlet  and  white  very  natty  in  contrast 
to  most  of  our  ragged  wharf-rats  at  the  guns,  were  mustered  on 
poop  and  forecastle,  and  some  were  sent  aloft  to  the  tops  to 
assist  the  tars  there  to  sweep  the  British  decks  with  hand- 
grenade  and  musket.  And,  lastly,  the  surgeon  and  his  mates 
went  below  to  cockpit  and  steerage,  to  make  ready  for  the 
grimmest  work  of  all. 

j\Iy  own  duties  took  me  to  the  dark  lower  deck,  a  vile  place 
indeed,  and  reeking  with  the  smell  of  tar  and  stale  victuals. 
There  I  had  charge  of  the  battery  of  old  eighteens,  while  Mr. 
Dale  commanded  the  twelves  on  the  middle  deck.  We  loaded 
our  guns  with  two  shots  apiece,  though  I  had  my  doubts  about 
their  standing  such  a  charge,  and  then  the  men  stripped  until 
they  stood  naked  to  the  waist,  waiting  for  the  fight  to  begin. 
For  we  could  see  nothing  of  what  was  going  forward.  I  was 
pacing  up  and  down,  for  it  was  a  task  to  quiet  the  nerves  in 
that  dingj''  place  with  the  gun-ports  closed,  when  about  three 
bells  of  the  dog,  Mr.  Mease,  the  purser,  appeared  on  the  ladder. 

"Lunt  has  not  come  back  with  the  pilot-boat,  Carvel,"  said 
he.  "I  have  volunteered  for  a  battery,  and  am  assigned  to 
this.     You  are  to  report  to  the  commodore." 

I  thanked  him,  and  climbed  quickly  to  the  quarterdeck. 
The  Bon  homme  Richard  was  lumbering  like  a  leaden  ship 
before  the  wind,  swaying  ponderously,  her  topsails  flapping 
and  her  heavy  blocks  whacking  against  the  yards.  And  there 
was  the  commodore,   erect,  and  with  fire  in  his  eye,   giving 


480  RICHARD   CARVEL 

sharp  commands  to  the  men  at  the  wheel.  I  knew  at  once ' 
that  no  trifle  had  disturbed  him.  He  wore  a  brand-new  uni- 
form; a  blue  coat  with  red  lapels  and  yellow  buttons,  and 
slashed  culfs  and  stand-up  collar,  a  red  waistcoat  with  tawny 
lace,  blue  breeches,  white  silk  stockings,  and  a  cocked  hat  and 
a  sword.     Into  his  belt  were  stuck  two  brace  of  pistols. 

It  took  some  effort  to  realize,  as  I  waited  silently  for  his 
attention,  that  this  was  the  man  of  whose  innermost  life  I  had 
had  so  intimate  a  view.  Who  had  taken  me  to  the  humble 
cottage  under  Criffel,  who  had  poured  into  my  ear  his  ambi- 
tions and  his  wrongs  when  we  had  sat  together  in  the  dingy 
room  of  the  Castle  Yard  sponging-house.  Then  some  of  those 
ludicrous  scenes  on  the  road  to  London  came  up  to  me,  for 
which  the  sky-blue  frock  was  responsible.  And  yet  this  com- 
modore was  not  greatly  removed  from  him  I  had  first  beheld 
on  the  brigantine  John.  His  confidence  in  his  future  had  not 
so  much  as  wavered  since  that  day.  That  future  was  now  not 
so  far  distant  as  the  horizon,  and  he  was  ready  to  meet  it. 

"  You  will  take  charge  of  the  battery  of  nines  on  this  deck, 
Mr.  Carvel,"  said  he,  at  length. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  I  replied,  and  was  making  my  way  down 
the  poop  ladder,  when  I  heard  him  calling  me,  in  a  low  voice, 
by  the  old  name:  "Richard!  " 

I  turned  and  followed  him  aft  to  the  taffrail,  where  we  were 
clear  of  the  French  soldiers.  The  sun  was  hanging  red  over 
the  Yorkshire  Wolds,  the  Head  of  Flamborough  was  in  the 
blue  shadow,  and  the  clouds  were  like  rose  leaves  in  the  sky. 
The  enemy  had  tacked  and  was  standing  west,  with  ensign  and 
jack  and  pennant  flying,  the  level  light  washing  his  sails  to 
the  whiteness  of  paper.  'Twas  then  I  first  remarked  that  the 
Alliance  had  left  her  place  in  line  and  was  sailing  swiftly  ahead 
toward  the  Serapis.  The  commodore  seemed  to  read  my  ex- 
clamation. 

"Landais  means  to  ruin  me  yet,  by  hook  or  crook,"  said  he. 

"But  he  can't  intend  to  close  with  them,"  I  replied.  "He 
has  not  the  courage." 

"God  knows  what  he  intends,"  said  the  commodore,  bit- 
terly.    "It  is  no  good,  at  all  events." 


THE   '^SERAPIS"  481 

My  heart  bled  for  liim.  Some  minutes  passed  that  he  did 
not  speak,  making  shift  to  raise  his  glass  now  and  again,  and 
I  knew  that  he  was  gripped  by  a  strong  emotion.  'Twas  so 
he  ever  behaved  when  the  stress  was  greatest.  Presently  he 
lays  down  the  glass  on  the  signal-chest,  fumbles  in  his  coat, 
and  brings  out  tlie  little  gold  brooch  I  had  not  set  eyes  on 
since  Dolly  and  he  and  I  had  stood  together  on  the  Betsy^s 
deck. 

"When  you  see  her,  Kichard,  tell  her  that  I  have  kept  it  as 
sacred  as  her  memory,"  he  said  thickly.  "She  will  recall 
what  I  spoke  of  you  when  she  gave  it  me.  You  have  been 
leal  and  true  to  me  indeed,  and  many  a  black  hour  have  you 
tided  me  over  since  this  war  began.  Do  you  know  how  she 
may  be  directed  to?"  he  concluded,  with  abruptness. 

I  glanced  at  him,  surprised  at  the  question.  He  was  staring 
at  the  English  shore. 

"  Mr.  Ripley,  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  used  to  be  Mr.  Manners's 
lawyer,"  I  answered. 

He  took  out  a  little  note-book  and  vrote  that  down  carefully. 
"And  now,"  he  continued,  "God  keep  you,  my  friend.  We 
must  win,  for  we  fight  with  a  rope  around  our  necks." 

"But  you,  Captain  Paul,"  I  said,  "is  —  is  there  no  one?" 

His  face  took  on  the  look  of  melancholy  it  had  worn  so 
often  of  late,  despite  his  triumphs.  That  look  was  the  stamp 
of  fate. 

"Richard,"  replied  he,  with  an  ineffable  sadness,  "I  am 
naught  but  a  wanderer  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  I  have  no 
ties,  no  kindred, — no  real  friends,  save  you  and  Dale,  and 
some  of  these  honest  fellows  whom  I  lead  to  slaughter.  My 
ambition  is  seamed  with  a  flaw.  And  all  my  life  I  must  be 
striving,  striving,  until  I  am  laid  in  the  grave.  I  know  that 
now,  and  it  is  you  yourself  who  have  taught  me.  For  I  have 
violently  broken  forth  from  those  bounds  which  God  in  His 
wisdom  did  set." 

I  pressed  his  hand,  and  with  bowed  head  went  back  to  my 
station,  profoundly  struck  by  the  truth  of  what  he  had  spoken. 
Though  he  fought  under  the  flag  of  freedom,  the  curse  of  the 
expatriated  was  upon  his  head. 
2i 


482  EICHARD  CAEVEL 

Shortly  afterward  lie  appeared  at  tlie  poop  rail,  straight  and 
alert,  his  eye  piercing  each  mau  as  it  fell  on  him.  He  was 
the  commodore  once  more. 

The  twilight  deepened,  until  you  scarce  could  see  your 
hands.  There  was  no  sound  save  the  cracking  of  the  cabins 
and  the  tumbling  of  the  blocks,  and  from  time  to  time  a  mut- 
tered command.  An  age  went  by  before  the  trimmers  were 
sent  to  the  lee  braces,  and  the  Richard  rounded  lazily  to.  And 
a  great  frigate  loomed  out  of  the  night  beside  us,  half  a  pistol- 
shot  away. 

"Wliat  ship  is  that?"  came  the  hail,  intense  out  of  the 
silence. 

"I  don't  hear  you,"  replied  our  commodore,  for  he  had  not 
yet  got  his  distance. 

Again  came  the  hail:  "What  ship  is  that?" 

Jolm  Paul  Jones  leaned  forward  over  the  rail. 

"Pass  the  word  below  to  the  first  lieutenant  to  begin  the 
action,  sir." 

Hardly  were  the  words  out  of  my  mouth  before  the  deck 
gave  a  mighty  leap,  a  hot  wind  that  seemed  half  of  flame  blew 
across  my  face,  and  the  roar  started  the  pain  throbbing  in  my 
ears.  At  the  same  instant  the  screech  of  shot  sounded  over- 
head, we  heard  the  sharp  crack-crack  of  wood  rending  and 
splitting, —  as  with  a  great  broadaxe, —  and  a  medley  of  blocks 
and  ropes  rattled  to  the  deck  with  the  thud  of  the  falling 
bodies.  Then,  instead  of  stillness,  moans  and  shrieks  from 
above  and  below,  oaths  and  prayers  in  English  and  French 
and  Portuguese,  and  in  the  heathen  gibberish  of  the  East.  As 
the  men  were  sponging  and  ramming  home  in  the  first  fury  of 
hatred,  the  carpenter  jumped  out  under  the  battle-lanthorn  at 
the  main  hatch,  crying  in  a  wild  voice  that  the  old  eighteens 
had  burst,  killing  half  their  crews  and  blowing  up  the  gun- 
deck  above  them.  At  this  many  of  our  men  broke  and  ran  for 
the  hatches. 

"Back,  hack  to  your  quarters!  The  first  man  to  desert  loill  he 
shot  downf 

It  was  the  same  strange  voice  that  had  quelled  the  mutiny 
on  the  Johi,  that  had  awed  the  men  of  Kirkcudbright.     The 


THE    "SERAPIS"  483 

tackles  were  seized  and  the  guns  run  out  once  more,  and  fired, 
and  served  again  in  an  agony  of  haste.  In  the  darkness  shot 
shrieked  hitlier  and  tliitlier  about  us  like  demons,  striking 
everywhere,  sometimes  sending  casks  of  salt  water  over  the 
nettings.  Incessantly  the  quartermaster  walked  to  and  fro 
scattering  sand  over  the  black  pools  that  kept  running,  running 
together  as  the  minutes  were  tolled  out,  and  the  red  flashes 
from  the  guns  revealed  faces  in  a  hideous  contortion.  One  little 
fellow,  with  whom  I  had  had  many  a  lively  word  at  mess,  had 
his  arm  taken  off  at  the  shoulder  as  he  went  skipping  past  me 
with  the  charge  under  his  coat,  and  I  have  but  to  listen  now 
to  hear  the  patter  of  the  blood  on  the  boards  as  they  carried 
him  away  to  the  cockpit  below.  Out  of  the  main  hatch,  from 
that  charnel  house,  rose  one  continuous  cry.  It  was  an  odd 
trick  of  the  mind  or  soul  that  put  a  hymn  on  my  lips  in  that 
dreadful  hour  of  carnage  and  human  misery,  when  men  were 
calling  the  name  of  their  Maker  in  vain.  But  as  I  ran  from 
crew  to  crew,  I  sang  over  and  over  again  a  long-forgotten 
Christmas  carol,  and  v/ith  it  came  a  fleeting  memory  of  my 
mother  on  the  stairs  at  Carvel  Hall,  and  of  the  negroes  gath- 
ered on  the  lawn  without. 

Suddenly,  glancing  up  at  the  dim  cloud  of  sails  above,  I 
saw  that  we  were  aback  and  making  sternway.  We  might 
have  tossed  a  biscuit  aboard  the  big  Seirqyis  as  she  glided 
ahead  of  us.  The  broadsides  thundered,  and  great  ragged 
scantlings  brake  from  our  bulwarks  and  flew  as  high  as  the 
mizzen-top;  and  the  shrieks  and  groans  redoubled.  Involun- 
tarily my  eyes  sought  the  poop,  and  I  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  at 
the  sight  of  the  commanding  figure  in  the  midst  of  the  Avhirl- 
ing  smoke.  We  shotted  our  guns  with  double-headed,  manned 
our  lee  braces,  and  gathered  headway. 

^' Stand  by  to  board!" 

The  boatswains'  whistles  trilled  through  the  ship,  pikes 
were  seized,  and  pistol  and  cutlass  buckled  on.  But  even  as 
we  waited  with  set  teeth,  our  bows  ground  into  the  enemy's 
weather  quarter-gallery.  For  the  Richard's  rigging  was  much 
cut  away,  and  she  was  crank  at  best.  So  we  backed  and  filled 
once  more,  passing  the  Englishman  close  aboard,  himself  being 


484  RICHARD  CARVEL 

aback  at  the  time.  Several  of  his  shot  crushed  through  the 
bulwarks  in  front  of  me,  shattering  a  nine-pounder  alid  killing 
half  of  its  crew.  And  it  is  only  a  miracle  that  I  stand  alive 
to  be  able  to  tell  the  tale.  Then  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
quartermaster  whirling  the  spokes  of  our  wheel,  and  over  went 
our  helm  to  lay  us  athwart  the  forefoot  of  the  Serapis,  where 
we  might  rake  and  rush  her  decks.  Our  old  Indiaman  an- 
swered but  doggedly;  and  the  huge  bowsprit  of  the  Serapis, 
towering  over  our  heads,  snapped  off  our  spanker  gaff  and 
fouled  our  mizzen  rigging. 

"A  hawser,  Mr.  Stacey,  a  hawser!  "  I  heard  the  commodore 
shout,  and  saw  the  sailing-master  slide  down  the  ladder  and 
grope  among  the  dead  and  wounded  and  mass  of  broken  spars 
and  tackles,  and  finally  pick  up  a  smeared  rope's  end,  which 
I  helped  him  drag  to  the  poop.  There  we  found  the  com- 
modore himself  taking  skilful  turns  around  the  mizzen  with 
the  severed  stays  and  shrouds  dangling  from  the  bowsprit, 
the  French  marines  looking  on. 

"Don't  swear,  Mr.  Stacey,"  said  he,  severely  ;  "in  another 
minute  we  may  all  be  in  eternity." 

I  rushed  back  to  my  guns,  for  the  wind  was  rapidly  swing- 
ing the  stern  of  the  Serapis  to  our  own  bow,  now  bringing  her 
starboard  batteries  into  play.  Barely  had  we  time  to  light  our 
matches  and  send  our  broadside  into  her  at  three  fathoms 
before  the  huge  vessels  came  crunching  together,  the  dis- 
ordered riggings  locking,  and  both  pointed  northward  to  a 
leeward  tide  in  a  death  embrace.  The  chance  had  not  been 
given  him  to  shift  his  crews  or  to  fling  open  his  starboard 
gun-ports. 

Then  ensued  a  moment's  breathless  hush,  even  the  cries  of 
those  in  agony  lulling.  The  pall  of  smoke  rolled  a  little,  and  a 
silver  moonlight  filtered  through,  revealing  the  weltering  bodies 
twisted  upon  the  boards.  A  stern  call  came  from  beyond  the 
bulwarks. 

"  Have  you  struck,  sir  ?  " 

The  answer  sounded  clear,  and  bred  hero-worship  in  our 
souls. 

''^  Sir,  I  have  not  yet  begun  to  fight." 


THE   ''SERAPIS"  485 

Our  men  raised  a  hoarse  yell,  drowned  all  at  once  by  the 
popping  of  musketry  in  the  tops  and  the  bursting  of  grenades 
here  and  there  about  the  decks.  A  mighty  muffled  blast  sent 
the  Bon  homme  Richard  rolling  to  larboard,  and  the  smoke 
eddied  from  our  hatches  and  lifted  out  of  the  space  between 
the  ships.  The  Englishman  had  blown  off  his  gun-ports. 
And  next  some  one  shouted  that  our  battery  of  twelves  was 
fighting  them  muzzle  to  muzzle  below,  our  rammers  leaning 
into  the  Serapis  to  send  their  shot  home.  jSTo  chance  then 
for  the  thoughts  which  had  tortured  us  in  moments  of  sus- 
pense. That  was  a  fearful  hour,  when  a  shot  had  scarce  to 
leap  a  cannon's  length  to  find  its  commission;  when  the 
belches  of  the  English  guns  burned  the  hair  of  our  faces; 
when  Death  was  sovereign,  merciful  or  cruel  at  his  pleasure. 
The  red  flashes  disclosed  many  an  act  of  coolness  and  of  hero- 
ism. I  saw  a  French  lad  whip  off  his  coat  when  a  gunner 
called  for  a  wad,  and  another,  who  had  been  a  scavenger,  snatch 
the  rammer  from  Pearce's  hands  when  he  staggered  with  a 
grape-shot  through  his  chest.  Poor  Jack  Pearce !  He  did  not 
live  to  see  the  work  Scolding  Sairy  was  to  do  that  night.  I  had 
but  dragged  him  beyond  reach  of  the  recoil  when  he  was  gone. 

Then  a  cry  came  floating  down  from  aloft.  Thrice  did  I 
hear  it,  like  one  waking  out  of  a  sleep,  ere  I  grasped  its  im- 
port. "  The  Alliance  !  The  Alliance  !  "  But  liardly  had  the 
name  resounded  with  joy  throughout  the  ship,  when  a  hail 
of  grape  and  canister  tore  through  our  sails  from  aft  for- 
ward. "  She  rakes  us !  She  rakes  us ! "  And  the  French 
soldiers  tumbled  headlong  down  from  the  poop  with  a  wail  of 
"  Les  Anglais  I'ont  prise  !  "  "  Her  Englishmen  have  taken  her, 
and  turned  her  guns  against  us !  "  Our  captain  was  left  stand- 
ing alone  beside  the  staff  where  the  stars  and  stripes  waved 
black  in  the  moonlight. 

"The  Alliance  is  hauling  off,  sir!"  called  the  midshipman 
of  the  mizzen-top.  "  She  is  making  for  the  Pallas  and  the 
Countess  of  Scarborough." 

"  Very  good,  sir, "  was  all  the  commodore  said. 

To  us  hearkening  for  his  answer  his  voice  betrayed  no  sign 
of  dismay.     Seven  times,  I  say,   was  that  battle  lost,   and 


486  RICHARD  CARVEL 

seven  times  regained  again.  What  was  it  kept  the  crews  at 
their  quarters  and  the  officers  at  their  posts  through  that  hell 
of  flame  and  shot,  when  a  madman  could  scarce-  have  hoped  for 
victory  ?  What  but  the  knowledge  that  somewhere  in  the 
swirl  above  us  was  still  that  unswerving  and  indomitable  man 
who  swept  all  obstacles  from  before  him,  and  into  whose  mind 
the  thouglit  of  defeat  could  not  enter.  His  spirit  held  us  to 
our  task,  for  flesh  and  blood  might  not  have  endured  alone. 

We  had  now  but  one  of  our  starboard  nine-pounders  on 
its  carriage,  and  word  came  from  below  that  our  battery  of 
twelves  was  all  but  knocked  to  scrap  iron,  and  their  ports 
blown  into  one  yawning  gap.  Indeed,  we  did  not  have  to  be 
told  that  sides  and  stanchions  had  been  carried  away,  for  the 
deck  trembled  and  teetered  under  us  as  we  dragged  Scolding 
Sairy  from  her  stand  in  the  larboard  waist,  clearing  a  lane 
for  her  between  the  bodies.  Our  feet  slipped  and  slipped  as 
we  hove,  and  burning  bits  of  sails  and  splinters  dropping  from 
aloft  fell  unheeded  on  our  heads  and  shoulders.  With  the 
energy  of  desperation  I  was  bending  to  the  pull,  when  the 
Malay  in  front  of  me  sank  dead  across  the  tackle.  But,  ere  I 
could  touch  him,  he  was  tenderly  lifted  aside,  and  a  familiar 
figure  seized  the  rope  where  the  dead  man's  hands  had  warmed 
it.     Truly,  the  commodore  was  everywhere  that  night. 

"Down  to  the  surgeon  with  you,  Richard!"  he  cried.  "I 
will  look  to  the  battery." 

Dazed,  I  put  my  hand  to  my  hair  to  find  it  warm  and  wring- 
ing wet.  When  I  had  been  hit,  I  knew  not.  But  I  shook  my 
head,  for  the  very  notion  of  that  cockpit  turned  my  stomach. 
The  blood  was  streaming  from  a  gash  in  his  own  temple,  to 
which  he  gave  no  heed,  and  stood  encouraging  that  panting 
line  until  at  last  the  gun  was  got  across  and  hooked  to  the 
ring-bolts  of  its  companion  that  lay  shattered  there.  "  Serve 
her  with  double-headed,  my  lads,"  he  shouted,  "and  every 
shot  into  the  Englishman's  mainmast !  " 

"Ay,  ay,  sir,"  came  the  answer  from  every  man  of  that 
little  remnant. 

The  Serapis,  too,  was  now  beginning  to  blaze  aloft,  and 
choking  wood-smoke  eddied  out  of  the  Richard's  hold  and 


THE   "SERAPIS"  487 

mingled  with  the  powder  fumes.  Then  the  enemy's  fire 
abreast  us  seemed  to  lull,  and  Mr.  Stacey  mounted  the  bul- 
warks, and  cried  out:  "You  have  cleared  their  decks,  my 
hearties !  "  Aloft,  a  man  was  seen  to  clamber  from  our  main- 
yard  into  the  very  top  of  the  Englishman,  where  he  threw  a 
hand-grenade,  as  I  thought,  down  her  main  hatch.  An  instant 
after  an  explosion  came  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  our  faces, 
and  a  great  quadrant  of  light  flashed  as  high  as  the  Serapis's 
trucks,  and  through  a  breach  in  her  bulwarks  I  saw  men  run- 
ning with  only  the  collars  of  their  shirts  upon  their  naked 
bodies. 

'Twas  at  this  critical  moment,  when  that  fearful  battle  once 
more  was  won,  another  storm  of  grape  brought  the  spars 
about  our  heads,  and  that  name  which  we  dreaded  most  of  all 
was  spread  again.  As  we  halted  in  consternation,  a  dozen 
round  shot  ripped  through  our  unengaged  side,  and  a  babel  of 
voices  hailed  the  treacherous  Landais  with  oaths  and  impreca- 
tions. We  made  out  the  Alliance  with  a  full  head  of  canvas, 
black  and  sharp,  between  us  and  the  moon.  Smoke  hung 
above  her  rail.  Getting  over  against  the  signal  fires  blazing 
on  Elamborough  Head,  she  wore  ship  and  stood  across  our 
bows,  the  midshipman  on  the  forecastle  singing  out  to  her, 
by  the  commodore's  orders,  to  lay  the  enemy  by  the  board. 
There  was  no  response. 

"Do  you  hear  us?"  yelled  Mr.  Linthwaite. 

"  Ay,  ay,"  came  the  reply ;  and  with  it  tlie  smoke  broke  from 
her  and  the  grape  and  canister  swept  our  forecastle.  Then 
the  Alliance  sailed  away,  leaving  brave  Mr.  Caswell  among  the 
many  Landais  had  murdered. 

The  ominous  clank  of  the  chain  pumps  beat  a  sort  of  prelude 
to  what  happened  next.  The  gunner  burst  out  of  the  hatch 
with  blood  running  down  his  face,  shouting  that  the  Richard 
was  sinking,  and  yelling  for  quarter  as  he  made  for  the  ensign- 
staff  on  the  poop,  for  the  flag  was  shot  away.  Him  the  com- 
modore felled  with  a  pistol-butt.  At  the  gunner's  heels  were 
the  hundred  and  fifty  prisoners  we  had  taken,  released  by  the 
master  at  arms.  They  swarmed  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  ship 
like  a  horde  of  Tartars,  unkempt  and  wild  and  desperate  with 


488  RICHARD   CARVEL 

fear,  until  I  thought  that  the  added  weight  on  the  scarce- 
supported  deck  would  land  us  all  in  the  bilges.  Words  fail 
me  when  I  come  to  describe  the  frightful  panic  of  these  crea- 
tures, frenzied  by  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  They 
surged  hither  and  thither  as  angry  seas  driven  into  a  pocket  of 
a  storm-swept  coast.  They  trampled  rough-shod  over  the 
moaning  heaps  of  wounded  and  dying,  and  crowded  the  crews 
at  the  guns,  who  were  powerless  before  their  numbers.  Some 
fought  like  maniacs,  and  others  flung  themselves  into  the  sea. 

Those  of  us  who  had  clung  to  hope  lost  it  then.  Standing 
with  my  back  to  the  mast,  beating  them  off  with  a  pike,  visions 
of  an  English  prison-ship,  of  an  English  gallows,  came  before 
me.  I  counted  the  seconds  until  the  enemy's  seamen  would  be 
pouring  through  our  ragged  ports.  The  seventh  and  last  time, 
and  we  were  beaten,  for  we  had  not  men  enough  left  on  our  two 
decks  to  force  them  down  again.  Yes,  —  I  shame  to  confess 
it,  —  the  heart  went  clean  out  of  me,  and  with  that  the  pain 
pulsed  and  leaped  in  my  head  like  a  devil  unbound.  At  a  turn 
of  the  hand  I  should  have  sunk  to  the  boards,  had  not  a  voice 
risen  strong  and  clear  above  that  turmoil,  compelling  every 
man  to  halt  trembling  in  his  steps. 

"  Cast  off,  cast  off!  The  Serapis  is  sinking.  To  the  pumps, 
ye  fools,  if  you  ivould  save  your  lives!'' 

That  unerring  genius  of  the  gardener's  son  had  struck  the 
only  chord ! 

They  were  like  sheep  before  us  as  we  beat  them  back  into 
the  reeking  hatches,  and  soon  the  pumps  were  heard  bumping 
with  a  renewed  and  a  desperate  vigour.  Then,  all  at  once,  the 
towering  mainmast  of  the  enemy  cracked  and  tottered  and 
swung  this  way  and  that  on  its  loosened  shrouds.  The  first 
intense  silence  of  the  battle  followed,  in  the  midst  of  which 
came  a  cry  from  our  top :  — 

"  Their  captain  is  hauling  down,  sir  !  " 

The  sound  which  broke  from  our  men  could  scarce  be  called 
a  cheer.  That  which  they  felt  as  they  sank  exhausted  on  the 
blood  of  their  comrades  may  not  have  been  elation.  My  own 
feeling  was  of  unmixed  wonder  as  I  gazed  at  a  calm  profile 
above  me,  sharp-cut  against  the  moon. 


THE   "SERAPIS"  489 

I  was  moved  as  out  of  a  revery  by  the  sight  of  Dale  swing- 
ing across  to  the  Serapis  by  the  main  brace  pennant.  Calling 
on  some  of  my  boarders,  I  scaled  our  bulwarks  and  leaped 
fairly  into  the  middle  of  the  gangway  of  the  Se^ripis. 

Such  is  nearly  all  of  my  remembrance  of  that  momentous 
occasion.  I  had  caught  the  one  glimpse  of  our  first  lieutenant 
in  converse  with  their  captain  and  another  officer,  when  a 
naked  seaman  came  charging  at  me.  He  had  raised  a  pike 
above  his  shoulder  ere  I  knew  what  he  was  about,  and  my 
senses  left  me. 


CHAPTER  LIII 

IN    WHICH   I    MAKE   SOME   DISCOVERIES 

The  room  had  a  prodigious  sense  of  change  about  It.  That 
came  over  me  with  something  of  a  shock,  since  the  moment 
before  I  had  it  settled  that  I  was  in  Marlboro'  Street.  The 
bare  branches  swaying  in  the  wind  outside  should  belong  to 
the  trees  in  Freshwater  Lane.  But  beyond  the  branches  were 
houses,  the  like  of  which  I  had  no  remembrance  of  in  Annapolis. 
And  then  my  grandfather  should  be  sitting  in  that  window. 
Surely,  he  was  there!  He  moved!  He  was  coming  toward 
me  to  say:  "Richard,  you  are  forgiven,"  and  to  brush  his  eyes 
with  his  ruffles. 

Then  there  was  the  bed-canopy,  the  pleatings  of  which  were 
gone,  and  it  was  turned  white  instead  of  the  old  blue.  And  the 
chimney-place !  That  was  unaccountably  smaller,  and  glowed 
with  a  sea-coal  fire.  And  the  mantel  was  now  but  a  bit  of  a 
shelf,  and  held  many  things  that  seemed  scarce  at  home  on  the 
rough  and  painted  wood, —  gold  filigree,  and  China  and  Japan, 
and  a  French  clock  that  ought  not  to  have  been  just  there. 
Ah,  the  tea-cups!  Here  at  last  was  something  to  touch  a 
fibre  of  my  '")rain,  but  a  pain  came  with  the  effort  of  memory. 
So  my  eye .  went  back  to  my  grandfather  in  the  window.  His 
face  was  now  become  black  as  Scipio's,  and  he  Avore  a  red 
turban  and  a  striped  cotton  gown  that  was  too  large  for  him. 
And  he  was  sewing.     This  was  monstrous ! 

I  hurried  over  to  the  tea-cups,  such  a  twinge  did  that  dis- 
covery give  me.  But  they  troubled  me  near  as  much,  and  the 
sea-coal  fire  held  strange  images.  The  fascination  in  the  win- 
dow was  not  to  be  denied,  for  it  stood  in  line  with  the  houses 
and  the  trees.     Suddenly  there  rose  up  before  me  a  gate.     Yes, 

490 


I  MAKE   SOME  DISCOVERIES  491 

I  knew  that  gate,  and  the  girlish  figure  leaning  over  it.  They 
were  in  Prince  George  Street.  Behind  them  was  a  mass  of 
golden-rose  bushes,  and  out  of  these  came  forth  a  black  face 
under  a  turban,  saying,  "Yes,  mistis,  I'se  comin'." 

*'  Mammy  —  Mammy  Lucy !  " 

The  figure  in  the  window  stirred,  and  the  sewing  fell  into 
its  ample  lap. 

"Now  Lawd  'a  mercy!  " 

I  trembled  with  a  violence  unspeakable.  Was  this  but  one 
more  of  those  thousand  voices,  harsh  and  gentle,  rough  and 
tender,  to  which  I  had  listened  in  vain  this  age  past?  The 
black  face  was  hovering  over  me  now,  and  in  an  agony  of 
apprehension  I  reached  up  and  felt  its  honest  roughness. 
Then  I  could  have  wept  for  joy. 

"  Mammy  Lucy !  " 

"Yes,  Marse  Dick?" 

"Where— where  is  Miss  Dolly?" 

"Now,  Marse  Dick,  doctah  done  say  you  not  t'  talk,  suh." 

"Where  is  Miss  Dolly?"  I  cried,  seizing  her  arm. 

"Hush,  Marse  Dick.  Miss  Dolly '11  come  terectly,  suh. 
She's  lyin'  down,  suh.'' 

The  door  creaked,  and  in  my  eagerness  I  tried  to  lift  myself. 
'Twas  Aunt  Lucy's  hand  that  restrained  me,  and  the  next 
face  I  saw  was  that  of  Dorothy's  mother.  But  why  did  it 
appear  so  old  and  sorrow-lined?  And  why  was  the  hair  now 
of  a  whiteness  with  the  lace  of  the  cap?  She  took  my  fingers 
in  her  own,  and  asked  me  anxiously  if  I  felt  any  pain. 

"Where  am  I,  Mrs.  Manners?" 

"You  are  in  London,  Richard." 

"In  Arlington  Street?" 

She  shook  her  head  sadly.  "No,  my  dear,  not  in  Arlington 
Street.     But  you  are  not  to  talk." 

"And  Dorothy?  May  I  not  see  Dorothy?  Aunt  Lucy  tells 
me  she  is  here." 

Mrs.  Manners  gave  the  old  mammy  a  glance  of  reproof,  a 
signal  that  alarmed  me  vastly. 

"Oh,  tell  me,  Mrs.  Manners!  You  will  speak  the  truth. 
Tell  me  if  she  is  gone  away?" 


492  EICHARD   CARVEL 

"  My  dear  boy,  she  is  here,  and  under  this  very  roof.  And 
you  shall  see  her  as  soon  as  Dr.  Barry  will  permit.  "Which  will 
not  be  soon,"  she  added  with  a  smile,  "if  you  persist  in  this 
conduct. " 

The  threat  had  the  desired  effect.  And  Mrs.  Manners  quietly 
left  the  room,  and  after  a  while  as  quietly  came  back  again  and 
sat  down  by  the  fire,  whispering  to  Aunt  Lucy. 

Fate,  in  some  inexplicable  way,  had  carried  me  into  the 
enemy's  country  and  made  me  the  guest  of  Mr.  Marmaduke 
Manners.  As  I  lay  staring  upward,  odd  little  bits  of  the  past 
came  floating  to  the  top  of  my  mind,  presently  to  be  pieced 
together.  The  injuries  Mr.  Marmaduke  had  done  me  were  the 
first  to  collect,  since  I  was  searching  for  the  cause  of  my  re- 
sentment against  him.  The  incidents  arrived  haphazard  as 
magic  lanthorn  views,  but  very  vivid.  His  denial  of  me  before 
Mr.  Dix,  and  his  treachery  at  Vauxhall,  when  he  had  sent  me 
to  be  murdered.  Next  I  felt  myself  clutching  the  skin  over 
his  ribs  in  Arlington  Street,  when  I  had  flung  him  across  the 
room  in  his  yellow  night-gown.  That  brought  me  to  the  most 
painful  scene  of  my  life,  when  I  had  parted  with  Dorothy  at 
the  top  of  the  stairs.  Afterward  followed  scraps  of  the  years 
at  Gordon's  Pride,  and  on  top  of  them  the  talk  with  McAn- 
drews.  Here  was  the  secret  I  sought.  The  crash  had  come. 
And  they  were  no  longer  in  Mayfair,  but  must  have  taken 
a  house  in  some  poorer  part  of  London.  This  thought 'cast 
me  down  tremendously. 

And  Dorothy!  Had  time  changed  her?  'Twas  with  that 
query  on  my  lips  I  fell  asleep,  to  dream  of  the  sun  shining 
down  on  Carvel  Hall  and  Wilmot  House ;  of  Aunt  Hester  and 
Aunt  Lucy,  and  a  lass  and  a  lad  romping  through  pleasant 
fields  and  gardens. 

When  I  awoke  it  was  broad  day  once  more.  A  gentleman 
sat  on  the  edge  of  my  bed.  He  had  a  queer,  short  face,  ruddy 
as  the  harvest  moon,  and  he  smiled  good-humouredly  when  I 
opened  my  eyes. 

"I  bid  you  good  morning,  Mr.  Carvel,  for  the  first  time 
since  I  have  made  your  acquaintance,"  said  he.  "And  how 
do  you  feel,  sir?" 


I  MAKE   SOME  DISCOVEEIES  493 

"I  have  never  felt  better  in  my  life,"  I  replied,  whicli  was 
the  whole  truth. 

"Well,  vastly  well,"  says  he,  laughing,  "prodigious  well  for 
a  young  man  who  has  as  many  holes  in  him  as  have  you.  Do 
you  hear  him,  Mrs.  Manners?" 

At  that  last  word,  I  popped  up  to  look  about  the  room,  and 
the  doctor  caught  hold  of  me  with  ludicrous  haste.  A  pain 
shot  through  my  body. 

"Avast,  avast,  my  hearty,"  cries  he.  "'Tis  a  miracle  you 
can  speak,  let  alone  carry  your  bed  and  walk  for  a  while  yet." 
And  he  turned  to  Dorothy's  mother,  whom  I  beheld  smiling  at 
me.  "  You  will  give  him  the  physic,  ma'am,  at  the  hours  I 
have  chosen.  Egad,  I  begin  to  think  we  shall  come  through. 
But  pray  remember,  ma'am,  if  he  talks,  you  are  to  put  a  wad 
in  his  mouth." 

"He  shall  have  no  opportunity  to  talk.  Dr.  Barry,''  said 
Mrs.  Manners. 

"  Save  for  a  favour  I  have  to  ask  you,  doctor,"  I  cried. 

"'Od's  bodkins!     Already,  sir?     And  what  may  that  be?" 

"That  you  will  allow  me  to  see  Miss  Manners." 

He  shook  with  laughter,  and  then  winked  at  me  very 
roguishly. 

"Oh!"  says  he,  "and  faith,  I  should  be  worse  than  cruel. 
First  she  comes  imploring  me  to  see  you,  and  so  prettily  that 
a  man  of  oak  could  not  refuse  her.  And  now  it  is  you  beg- 
ging to  see  her.  Had  your  eyes  been  opened,  sir,  you  might 
have  had  many  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Dolly  these  three  weeks 
past." 

"  What !  She  has  been  watching  with  me  ?  "  I  asked,  in 
a  rapture  not  to  be  expressed. 

"'Od's,  but  those  are  secrets.  And  the  medical  profession 
is  close-mouthed,  Mr.  Carvel.  So  you  want  to  see  her  ?  No," 
cries  he,  "  'tis  not  needful  to  swear  it  on  the  Evangels.  And 
I  let  her  come  in,  will  you  give  me  your  honour  as  a  gentleman 
not  to  speak  more  than  two  words  to  her?  " 

"  I  promise  anything,  and  you  will  not  deny  me  looking  at 
her,"  said  I. 

He  shook  again,  all  over.     "You  rascal!     You  sad  dog,  sir! 


494  EICHAED   CAEVEL 

No,  sir,  faitli,  you  must  shut  your  eyes.     Eh,  madam,  must  he 
not  shut  his  eyes?" 

"They  were   playmates,   doctor,"  answers   Mrs.  Manners. 
She  was  laughing  a  little,  too. 

"  Well,  she  shall  come  in.  But  remember  that  I  shall  have 
my  ear  to  the  keyhole,  and  you  go  beyond  your  promise,  out 
she's  whisked.  So  I  caution  you  not  to  spend  rashly  those 
two  words,  sir." 

And  he  followed  Mrs.  Manners  out  of  the  room,  frowning 
and  shaking  his  fist  at  me  in  mock  fierceness.  I  would  have 
died  for  the  man.  For  a  space  —  a  prodigious  long  space  —  I 
lay  very  still,  my  heart  bumping  like  a  gun-carriage  broke 
loose,  and  my  eyes  riveted  on  the  crack  of  the  door.  Then  I 
caught  the  sound  of  a  light  footstep,  the  knob  turned,  and  joy 
poured  into  my  soul  with  the  sweep  of  a  Fundy  tide. 

"  Dorothy !  "  I  cried.     "  Dorothy ! " 

She  put  her  finger  to  her  lips. 

"There,  sir,"  said  she,  "now  you  have  spoken  them  both  at 
once ! " 

She  closed  the  door  softly  behind  her,  and  stood  looking 
down  upon  me  with  such  a  wondrous  love-light  in  her  eyes  as 
no  man  may  describe.  My  fancy  had  not  lifted  me  within  its 
compass,  my  dreams  even  had  not  imagined  it.  And  the  fire 
from  which  it  sprang  does  not  burn  in  humbler  souls.  So  she 
stood  gazing,  those  lips  which  once  had  been  the  seat  of  pride 
now  parted  in  a  smile  of  infinite  tenderness.  But  her  head 
she  still  held  high,  and  her  body  straight.  Down  the  front  of 
her  dress  fell  a  tucked  apron  of  the  whitest  linen,  and  in  her 
hand  was  a  cup  of  steaming  broth. 

"You  are  to  take  this,  Eichard,"  she  commanded.  Ana 
added,  with  a  touch  of  her  old  mischief,  "Mind,  sir,  if  I 
hear  a  sound  out  of  you,  I  am  to  disappear  like  the  fairy  god- 
mother." 

I  knew  full  well  she  meant  it,  and  the  terror  of  losing  her 
kept  me  silent.  She  put  down  the  cup,  placed  another  pillow 
behind  my  head  with  a  marvellous  deftness,  and  then  began 
feeding  me  in  dainty  spoonfuls  something  which  was  surely 
nectar.     And  mine  eyes,  too,  had  their  feast.     Never  before 


I  MAKE   SOME  DISCOVERIES  496 

had  I  seen  my  lady  in  this  gentle  guise,  this  task  of  nursing 
the  sick,  which  her  doing  raised  to  a  queenly  art. 

Her  face  had  changed  some.  Years  of  trial  unknown  to  me 
had  left  an  ennobling  mark  upon  her  features,  increasing  their 
power  an  hundred  fold.  And  the  levity  of  girlish  years  was 
gone.  How  I  burned  to  question  her!  But  her  lips  were  now 
tight  closed,  her  glance  now  and  anon  seeking  mine,  and  then 
falling  with  an  exquisite  droop  to  the  coverlet.  For  the  old 
archness,  at  least,  would  never  be  eradicated.  Presently,  after 
she  had  taken  the  cup  and  smoothed  my  pillow,  I  reached  out 
for  her  hand.  It  was  a  boldness  of  which  I  had  not  believed 
myself  capable ;  but  she  did  not  resist,  and  even,  as  I  thought, 
pressed  my  fingers  with  her  own  slender  ones,  the  red  of  our 
Maryland  holly  blushing  in  her  cheeks.  And  what  need  of 
words,  indeed!  Our  thoughts,  too,  flew  coursing  hand  in 
hand  through  primrose  paths,  and  the  angels  themselves  were 
not  to  be  envied. 

A  master  might  picture  my  happiness,  waking  and  sleeping, 
through  the  short  winter  days  that  came  and  went  like  flashes 
of  gray  light.  The  memory  of  them  is  that  of  a  figure  tall  and 
lithe,  a  little  more  rounded  than  of  yore,  and  a  chiselled  face 
softened  by  a  power  that  is  one  of  the  world's  mysteries. 
Dorothy  had  looked  the  lady  in  rags,  and  housewife's  cap  and 
apron  became  her  as  well  as  silks  or  brocades.  When  for  any 
reason  she  was  absent  from  my  side,  I  moped,  to  the  quiet 
amusement  of  Mrs.  Manners  and  the  more  boisterous  delight 
of  Aunt  Lucy,  who  took  her  turn  sewing  in  the  window.  I 
was  near  to  forgetting  the  use  of  words,  until  at  length,  one 
rare  morning  when  the  sun  poured  in,  the  jolly  doctor  dressed 
my  wounds  with  more  despatch  than  common,  and  vouchsafed 
that  I  might  talk  awhile  that  day. 

"Oh!"  cries  he,  putting  me  as  ever  to  confusion,  "but  1 
have  a  guess  whom  my  gentleman  will  be  wishing  to  talk  with. 
But  I'll  warrant,  sir,  you  have  said  a  deal  more  than  I  have 
any  notion  of  without  opening  your  lips." 

And  he  went  away,  intolerably  pleased  with  his  joke. 

Alas  for  the  perversity  of  maiden  natures !  It  was  not  my 
dear  nurse  who  brought  my  broth  that  morning,  but   Mrs. 


496  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Manners  herself.  She  smiled  at  my  fallen  face,  and  took  a 
chair  at  my  bedside. 

"Now,  my  dear  boy,"  she  said,  "you  may  ask  what  ques- 
tions you  choose,  and  I  will  tell  you  very  briefly  how  you  have 
come  here." 

"I  have  been  thinking,  Mrs.  Manners,"  I  replied,  "that  if 
it  were  known  that  you  harboured  one  of  John  Paul  Jones's 
officers  in  London,  very  serious  trouble  might  follow  for 
you." 

I  thought  her  brow  clouded  a  little. 

"  No  one  knows  of  it,  Richard,  or  is  likely  to.  Dr.  Barry, 
like  so  many  in  England,  is  a  good  Whig  and  friend  to  America. 
And  you  are  in  a  part  of  London  far  removed  from  May  fair." 
She  hesitated,  and  then  continued  in  a  voice  that  strove  to  be 
lighter:  "This  little  house  is  in  Charlotte  Street,  Mary-le- 
Bone,  for  the  war  has  made  all  of  us  suffer  some.  And  we 
are  more  fortunate  than  many,  for  we  are  very  comfortable 
here,  and  though  I  say  it,  happier  than  in  Arlington  Street. 
And  the  best  of  our  friends  are  still  faithful.  Mr.  Fox,  with 
all  his  greatness,  has  never  deserted  us,  nor  my  Lord  Coniyn, 
Indeed,  we  owe  them  much  more  than  I  can  tell  you  of  now," 
she  said,  and  sighed.  "They  are  here  every  day  of  the  world 
to  inquire  for  vou,  and  it  was  his  Lordship  brought  you  out  of 
Holland." 

And  so  I  had  reason  once  more  to  bless  this  stanch  friend! 

"  Out  of  Holland?  "  I  cried. 

"Yes.  One  morning  as  we  sat  down  to  breakfast,  Mr.  Rip- 
ley's clerk  brought  in  a  letter  for  Dorothy.  But  I  must  say 
first  that  Mr.  Dulany,  who  is  in  London,  told  us  that  you  were 
with  John  Paul  Jones.  You  can  have  no  conception,  Richard, 
of  the  fear  and  hatred  that  name  has  aroused  in  England. 
Insurance  rates  have  gone  up  past  belief,  and  the  King's  ships 
are  cruising  in  every  direction  after  the  traitor  and  pirate,  as 
they  call  him.  We  have  prayed  daily  for  your  safety,  and 
Dorothy  —  well,  here  is  the  letter  she  received.  It  had  been 
opened  by  the  inspector,  and  allowed  to  pass.  And  it  is  to  be 
kept  as  a  curiosity."  She  drew  it  from  the  pocket  of  her 
apron  and  began  to  read. 


i  MAKE   SOME  DISCOVERIES  497 

•'The  Texel,  October  3,  1779. 

"My  dear  Miss  Dorothy:  I  would  not  be  thought  to 
flutter  y'r  Gentle  Bosom  with  Needless  Alarms,  nor  do  I  believe 
I  have  misjudged  y'r  Warm  &  Generous  Nature  when  I  write 
you  that  One  who  is  held  very  High  in  y'r  Esteem  lies  Exceed- 
ing I.l  at  this  Place,  who  might  by  Tender  Nursing  regain  his 
Health.  I  seize  this  Opportunity  to  say,  my  dear  Lady,  that  I 
have  ever  held  my  too  Brief  Acquaintance  with  you  in  London 
as  one  of  the  Sacred  Associations  of  my  Life.  From  the  Little 
I  saw  of  you  then  I  feel  Sure  that  this  Appeal  will  not  pass  in 
Vain.     I  remain  y'r  most  Humble  and  Devoted  Admirer, 

"James  Orchardson." 

"And  she  knew  it  was  from  Commodore  Jones?"  I  asked, 
in  astonishment. 

"My  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Manners,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "we 
women  have  a  keener  instinct  than  men  —  though  I  believe 
your  commodore  has  a  woman's  intuition.  Yes,  Dorothy 
knew.  And  I  shall  never  forget  the  fright  she  gave  me  as 
she  rose  from  the  table  and  handed  me  the  sheet  to  read,  cry- 
ing but  the  one  word.  She  sent  of£  to  Brook  Street  for  Lord 
Comyn,  who  came  at  once,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  dear  fellow 
was  set  out  for  Dover.  He  waited  for  nothing,  since  war  witli 
Holland  was  looked  for  at  any  day.  And  his  Lordship  him- 
self will  tell  you  about  that  rescue.  Within  the  week  he  had 
brought  you  to  vis.  Your  skull  had  been  trepanned,  you  had 
this  great  hole  in  your  thigh,  and  your  heart  was  beating  but 
slowly.  By  Mr.  Fox's  advice  we  sent  for  Dr.  Barry,  who  is  a 
skilled  surgeon,  and  a  discreet  man  despite  his  manner.  And 
you  have  been  here  for  better  than  three  weeks,  Richard,  hang- 
ing between  life  and  death." 

"And  I  owe  my  life  to  you  and  to  Dorothy,"  I  said 

"  To  Lord  Comyn  and  Dr.  Barry,  rather,"  she  replied  quickly. 
"We  have  done  little  but  keep  the  life  they  saved.  And  I 
thank  God  it  was  given  me  to  do  it  for  the  son  of  your  mothei 
and  father." 

Something  of  the  debt  I  owed  them  was  forced  upon  me, 
2k 


498  EICHARD   CARVEL 

They  were  poor,  doubtless  driven  to  make  ends  meet,  and  yet 
they  had  taken  me  in,  called  upon  near  the  undivided  services 
of  an  able  surgeon,  and  worn  themselves  out  with  nursing  me. 
Nor  did  I  forget  the  risk  they  ran  with  such  a  guest.  For  the 
first  time  in  many  years  my  heart  relented  toward  Mr.  Marma- 
duke.  For  their  sakes  I  forgave  him  over  and  over  what  I 
had  suffered,  and  my  treatment  of  him  lay  like  a  weight  upon 
me.  And  how  was  I  to  repay  them?  They  needed  the  money 
I  had  cost  them,  of  that  I  was  sure.  After  the  sums  I  had 
expended  to  aid  the  commodore  with  the  Ranger  and  the  Bon 
homme  Richard,  I  had  scarce  a  farthing  to  my  name.  With 
such  leaden  reflections  was  I  occupied  when  I  heard  Mrs.  Man- 
ners speaking  to  me. 

"  Richard,  I  have  some  news  for  you  which  the  doctor  thinks 
you  can  bear  to-day.  Mr.  Dulany,  who  is  exiled  like  the  rest 
of  us,  brought  them.  It  is  a  great  happiness  to  be  able  to  tell 
you,  my  dear,  that  you  are  now  the  master  of  Carvel  Hall,  and 
like  to  stay  so." 

The  tears  stole  into  her  eyes  as  she  spoke.  And  the 
enormity  of  those  tidings,  coming  as  rhey  did  on  the  top  of 
my  dejection,  benumbed  me.  All  they  meant  was  yet  far 
away  from  my  grasp,  but  the  one  supreme  result  that  was  first 
up  to  me  brought  me  near  to  fainting  in  my  weakness. 

"I  would  not  raise  your  hopes  unduly,  Richard,"  the  good 
lady  was  saying,  "  but  the  best  informed  here  seem  to  think 
that  England  cannot  push  the  war  much  farther.  If  the 
Colonies  win,  you  are  secure  in  your  title." 

"But  how  is  it  come  about,  Mrs.  Manners?"  I  demanded, 
with  my  first  breath. 

"  You  doubtless  have  heard  that  before  the  Declaration  was 
signed  at  Philadelphia  your  Uncle  Grafton  went  to  the  com- 
mittee at  Annapolis  and  contributed  to  the  patriot  cause,  and 
took  very  promptly  the  oath  of  the  Associated  Freemen  of 
Maryland,  thus  forsaking  the  loyalist  party  —  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  I  interrupted,  "I  heard  of  it  when  I  was  on  the 
Cabot.     He  thought  his  property  in  danger." 

"Just  so,"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  laughing;  "he  became  the 
best  and  most  exemplary  of  patriots,  even  as  he  had  been  the 


I  MAKE   SOME  DISCOVERIES  499 

best  of  Tories.  He  sent  wheat  and  money  to  the  army,  and 
went  about  bemoaning  that  his  only  son  fought  under  the 
English  flag.  But  very  little  fighting  has  Philip  done,  my 
dear.  Well,  when  the  big  British  fleet  sailed  up  tlie  bay  in 
'77,  your  precious  uncle  made  the  first  false  step  in  his  long 
career  of  rascality.  He  began  to  correspond  with  the  British 
at  Philadelphia,  and  one  of  his  letters  was  captured  near  the 
Head  of  Elk.  A  squad  was  sent  to  the  Kent  estate,  where  he 
had  been  living,  to  arrest  him,  but  he  made  his  escape  to  New 
York.     And  his  lands  were  at  once  confiscated  by  the  state." 

"Then  they  belong  to  the  state,"  I  said,  with  misgiving. 

"  Not  so  fast,  Richard.  At  the  last  session  of  the  Maryland 
Legislature  a  bill  was  introduced,  through  the  influence  of 
Mr.  Bordley  and  others,  to  restore  them  to  you,  their  rightful 
owner.  And  insomuch  as  you  were  even  then  serving  the 
country  faithfully  and  bravely,  and  had  a  clean  and  honour- 
able record  of  service,  the  whole  of  the  lands  were  given  to 
you.  And  now,  my  dear,  you  have  had  excitement  enough 
for  one  day." 


CHAPTER  LIV 

MORE   DISCOVERIES 

All  that  morning  I  pondered  over  the  devious  lane  of  my 
life,  which  had  led  up  to  so  fair  a  garden.  And  one  thing 
above  all  kept  turning  and  turning  in  my  head,  until  I  thought 
I  should  die  of  waiting  for  its  fullilnient.  Now  was  I  free  to 
ask  Dorothy  to  marry  me,  to  promise  her  the  ease  and  comfort 
that  had  once  been  hers,  should  God  bring  us  safe  back  to 
Maryland.  The  change  in  her  was  little  less  than  a  marvel 
to  me,  when  I  remembered  the  wilful  miss  who  had  come  to 
London  bent  upon  pleasure  alone.  Truly,  she  was  of  that  rare 
metal  which  refines,  and  then  outshines  all  others.  And  there 
was  much  I  could  not  understand.  A  miracle  had  saved  her 
from  the  Duke  of  Chartersea,  but  why  she  had  refused  so 
many  great  men  and  good  was  beyond  my  comprehension. 
Not  a  glimpse  of  her  did  I  get  that  day,  though  my  eyes  wan- 
dered little  from  the  knob  of  the  door.  And  even  from  Aunt 
Lucy  no  satisfaction  was  to  be  had  as  to  the  cause  of  her 
absence. 

"'Clare  to  goodness,  Marse  Dick,"  said  she,  with  great 
solemnity,  "  'clare  to  goodness,  I'se  nursed  Miss  Dolly  since 
she  was  dat  high,  and  neber  one  minnit  ob  her  life  is  I  knowed 
what  de  chile  gwine  t'  do  de  next.  She  ain't  neber  yit  donw 
what  I  calcelated  on." 

The  next  morning,  after  the  doctor  had  dressed  my  wounds 
and  bantered  me  to  his  heart's  content,  enters  Mr.  Marmaduke 
Manners.  I  was  prodigiously  struck  by  the  change  in  him, 
and  pitied  him  then  near  as  much  as  I  had  once  despised  him. 
He  was  arrayed  in  finery,  as  of  old.  But  the  finery  was  some- 
thing shabby;  the  lace  was  frayed  at  the  edges,  there  was  a 

500 


MORE   DISCOVERIES  601 

neat  but  obvious  patch  in  his  small-clothes,  and  two  more  in 
his  coat.  His  air  was  what  distressed  me  most  of  all,  being 
that  of  a  man  who  spends  his  days  seeking  favours  and  getting 
none.  I  had  seen  too  many  of  the  type  not  to  know  the  sign 
of  it. 

He  ran  forward  and  gave  me  his  hand,  which  I  grasped  as 
heartily  as  my  weakness  would  permit. 

"They  would  not  let  me  see  you  until  to-day,  my  dear 
Richard,"  he  exclaimed.  "I  bid  3'ou  welcome  to  what  is  left 
of  our  home.     'Tis  not  Arlington  Street,  my  lad." 

"But  more  of  a  home  than  was  that  grander  house,  Mr. 
Manners," 

He  sighed  heavily. 

"  Alas !  "  said  he,  "  poverty  is  a  bitter  draught,  and  we  have 
drunk  deep  of  it  since  last  we  beheld  you.  My  great  friends 
know  me  no  more,  and  will  not  take  my  note  for  a  shilling. 
They  do  not  remember  the  dinners  and  suppers  I  gave  them. 
Faith,  this  war  has  brought  nothing  but  misery,  and  how  we 
are  to  get  through  it,  God  knows !  " 

Now  I  understood  it  was  not  the  war,  but  Mr.  Marmaduke 
himself,  which  had  carried  his  family  to  this  pass.  And 
some  of  my  old  resentment  rekindled. 

"  I  know  that  I  have  brought  you  great  additional  anxiety 
and  expense,  Mr.  Manners,"  I  answered  somewhat  testily. 
"The  care  I  have  been  to  Mrs.  Manners  and  Dorothy  I  may 
never  repay.  But  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  feel,  sir,  that  I 
am  in  a  position  to  reimburse  you,  and  likewise  to  loan  you 
something  until  your  lands  begin  to  pay  again." 

"There  the  Carvel  speaks,"  he  cried,  "and  the  true  son  of 
our  generous  province.  You  can  have  no  conception  of  the 
misfortunes  come  to  me  out  of  this  quarrel.  The  mortgages  on 
my  Western  Shore  tobacco  lands  are  foreclosed,  and  Wilmot 
House  itself  is  all  but  gone.  You  well  know,  of  course,  that 
I  would  do  the  same  by  you,  Richard." 

I  smiled,  but  more  in  sadness  than  amusement.  Hardship 
had  only  degraded  Mr.  Marmaduke  the  more,  and  even  in 
trouble  his  memory  was  convenient  as  is  that  of  most  people 
in  prosperity.     I  was  of  no  mind  to  jog  his  recollection.     Bui 


502  RICHAKD   CAEVEL 

I  wanted  badly  to  ask  about  bis  Grace.  Where  had  my  fine 
nobleman  been  at  the  critical  point  of  his  friend's  misfortunes? 
For  I  had  had  many  a  wakeful  night  over  that  same  query 
since  my  talk  with  McAndrews. 

"So  you  have  come  to  your  own  again,  Eichard,  my  lad," 
said  Mr.  Marmaduke,  breaking  in  upon  my  train.  "  I  have  felt 
for  you  deeply,  and  talked  many  a  night  with  Margaret  and 
Dorothy  over  the  wrong  done  you.  Between  you  and  me," 
he  whispered,  "  that  uncle  of  yours  is  an  arrant  knave,  whom 
the  patriots  have  served  with  justice.  To  speak  truth,  sir,  I 
begin  myself  to  have  a  little  leaning  to  that  cause  which  you 
have  so  bravely  espoused." 

This  time  I  was  close  to  laughing  outright.  But  he  was  far 
too  serious  to  remark  my  mirth.  He  commenced  once  more, 
with  an  ahem,  which  gave  me  a  better  inkling  than  frankness 
of  what  bothered  him. 

"You  will  have  an  agent  here,  Eichard,  I  take  it,"  said  he. 
"Your  grandfather  had  one.  Ahem!  Doubtless  this  agent 
will  advance  you  all  you  shall  have  need  of,  when  you  are  well 
enough  to  see  him.     Fact  is,  he  might  come  here." 

"  You  forget,  Mr.  Manners,  that  I  am  a  pirate  and  an  outlaw, 
and  that  you  are  the  shielder  of  such." 

That  thought  shook  the  pinch  of  Holland  he  held  all  over 
him.     But  he  recovered. 

"  My  dear  Eichard,  men  of  business  are  of  no  faction  and  of 
no  nation.  Their  motto  is  discretion.  And  to  obtain  the 
factorship  in  London  of  a  like  estate  to  yours  one  of  them 
would  wear  a  plaster  over  his  mouth,  I'll  warrant  you.  You 
have  but  to  summon  one  of  the  rascals,  promise  him  a  bit  of 
war  interest,  and  he  will  leave  you  as  much  as  you  desire,  and 
nothing  spoken." 

"To  talk  plainly,  Mr.  Manners,"  I  replied,  "I  think 
'twould  be  the  height  of  folly  to  resort  to  such  means.  When 
I  am  better,  we  shall  see  what  can  be  done." 

His  face  plainly  showed  his  disappointment. 

"To  be  sure,"  he  said,  in  a  whining  tone,  "I  had  forgotten 
your  friends.  Lord  Comyn  and  Mr.  Fox.  They  may  do  some- 
thing for  you,  now  you  own  your  estate.    My  dear  sir,  I  dislike 


MORE  DISCOVERIES  503 

to  say  aught  against  any  man.  Mrs.  Manners  will  tell  you  ot 
their  kindness  to  us,  but  I  vow  I  have  not  been  able  to  see  it. 
With  all  the  money  at  their  command  they  will  not  loan  me  a 
penny  in  my  pressing  need.  And  I  shame  to  say  it,  my  own 
daughter  prevents  me  from  obtaining  the  money  to  keep  us  out 
of  the  Fleet.  I  know  she  has  spoken  to  Dulany.  Think  of 
it,  Richard,  my  own  daughter,  upon  whom  I  lavished  all  when 
I  had  it,  who  might  have  made  a  score  of  grand  matches  when 
I  gave  her  the  opportunity,  and  now  we  had  all  been  rolling  in 
wealth.  I'll  be  sworn  I  don't  comprehend  her,  nor  her  mother 
either,  who  abets  her.  For  they  prefer  to  cook  INfaryland 
dainties  lor  a  living,  to  put  in  the  hands  of  the  footmen  of  the 
ladies  whose  houses  they  once  visited.  And  how  much  of  that 
money  do  you  suppose  I  get,  sir?  Will  you  believe  it  that  I" 
(he  was  shrieking  now),  "that  I,  the  man  of  the  family,  am 
allowed  only  my  simple  meals,  a  farthing  for  snuff,  and  not  a 
groat  for  chaise-hire?  At  my  age  I  am  obliged  to  walk  to  and 
from  their  lordships'  side  entrances  in  patched  clothes,  egad, 
when  a  new  suit  might  obtain  us  a  handsome  year's  income!  " 

I  turned  my  face  to  the  wall,  completely  overcome,  and  the 
tears  scalding  in  my  eyes,  at  the  thought  of  Dorothy  and  her 
mother  bending  over  the  stove  cooking  delicacies  for  their 
livelihood,  and  watching  at  my  bedside  night  and  day  despite 
their  weariness  of  body.  And  not  a  word  out  of  these  noble 
women  of  their  sacrifice,  nor  of  the  shame  and  trouble  and 
labour  of  their  lives,  wlio  always  had  been  used  to  every 
luxury!  Nothing  but  cheer  had  they  brought  to  the  sick- 
room, and  not  a  sign  of  their  poverty  and  hardship,  for  they 
knew  that  their  broths  and  biscuit  and  jellies  must  have  choked 
me.  No.  It  remained  for  this  contemptille  cur  of  a  husband 
and  father  to  open  my  eyes. 

He  had  risen  when  I  had  brought  myself  to  look  at  him. 
And  as  I  hope  for  heaven  he  took  my  emotion  for  pity  of  him- 
self. 

"  I  have  worried  you  enough  for  one  day  with  my  troubles, 
my  lad,"  said  he.  "But  they  are  very  hard  to  bear,  and  once 
in  a  while  it  does  me  good  to  speak  of  them." 

I  did  not  trust  myself  to  reply. 


504  RICHAED  CARVEL 

It  was  Aunt  Lucy  who  spent  the  morning  with  me,  and 
Mrs.  Manners  brought  my  dinner.  I  observed  a  questioning 
glance  as  she  entered,  which  I  took  for  an  attempt  to  read 
whether  Mr.  Marmaduke  had  spoke  more  than  lie  ought.  But 
I  would  have  bitten  off  my  tongue  rather  than  tell  her  of  my 
discoveries,  though  perhaps  my  voice  may  have  betrayed  an 
added  concern.  She  stayed  to  talk  on  the  progress  of  the  war, 
relating  the  gallant  storming  of  Stony  Point  by  Mad  Anthony 
in  July,  and  the  latest  Tory  insurrection  on  our  own  Eastern 
Shore.  She  passed  from  these  matters  to  a  discussion  of  Gen- 
eral Washington's  new  policy  of  the  defensive,  for  Mrs.  Man- 
ners had  always  been  at  heart  a  patriot.  And  whilst  I  lay 
listening  with  a  deep  interest,  in  comes  my  lady  herself.  So 
was  it  ever,  when  you  least  expected  her,  even  as  Mammy  had 
said.  She  curtseyed  very  prettily,  with  her  chin  tilted  back 
and  her  cheeks  red,  and  asked  me  how  I  did. 

"And  where  have  you  been  these  days  gone,  Miss  Will-o'- 
the-Wisp,  since  the  doctor  has  given  me  back  my  tongue?" 
I  cried. 

"I  like  you  better  when  you  are  asleep,"  says  she.  "For 
then  you  are  sometimes  witty,  though  I  doubt  not  the  wit  is 
other  people's." 

So  I  saw  that  she  had  tricked  me,  and  taken  her  watch  at 
night.  For  I  slept  like  a  trooper  after  a  day's  forage.  As  to 
what  I  might  have  said  in  my  dreams  —  that  thought  made  me 
red  as  an  apple. 

"Dorothy,  Dorothy,"  says  her  mother,  smiling,  "you  would 
provoke  a  saint." 

"  Which  would  be  better  fun  than  teasing  a  sinner,"  replies 
the  minx,  with  a  little  face  at  me.  "  Mr.  Carvel,  a  gentleman 
craves  the  honour  of  an  audience  from  your  Excellency." 

"  A  gentleman !  " 

"  Even  so.  He  presents  a  warrant  from  your  Excellency's 
physician." 

With  that  she  disappeared,  Mrs.  Manners  going  after  her. 
And  who  should  come  bursting  in  at  the  door  but  my  Lord 
Comyn?  He  made  one  rush  at  me,  and  despite  my  weakness 
bestowed  upon  me  a  bear's  hug. 


MORE  DISCOVERIES  505 

"Oh,  Richard,"  cried  he,  when  he  had  released  me,  "I  give 
you  my  oath  that  I  never  hoped  to  see  you  rise  from  that  bed 
when  we  laid  you  there.  But  they  say  that  love  works  won- 
drous cures,  and,  egad,  I  believe  that  now.  'Tis  love  is  curing 
you,  my  lad." 

He  held  me  off  at  arm's  length,  the  old-time  affection  beam- 
ing from  his  handsome  face. 

"What  am  I  to  say  to  you,  Jack?"  I  answered.  And  my 
voice  was  all  but  gone,  for  the  sight  of  him  revived  the  memory 
of  every  separate  debt  of  the  legion  I  owed  him.  "How  am  I 
to  piece  words  enough  together  to  thank  you  for  this  supreme 
act  of  charity?" 

"  'Od's,  you  may  thank  your  own  devilish  thick  head,"  said 
my  Lord  Comyn.  "I  should  never  have  bothered  my  own 
about  you  were  it  not  for  her.  Had  it  not  been  for  her  happi- 
ness do  you  imagine  I  would  have  picked  you  out  of  that  crew 
of  half -dead  pirates  in  the  Texel  fort?  " 

I  must  needs  brush  my  cheek,  then,  with  the  sleeve  of  my 
night-rail. 

"And  will  you  give  me  some  account  of  this  last  prodigious 
turn  you  have  done  her?"  I  said. 

He  laughed,  and  pinched  me  playfully. 

"Now  are  you  coming  to  your  senses,"  said  he.  "There 
was  cursed  little  to  the  enterprise,  Richard,  and  that's  the 
truth!  I  got  down  to  Dover,  and  persuaded  the  master  of  a 
schooner  to  carry  me  to  Rotterdam.  That  was  not  so  difficult, 
since  your  Terror  of  the  Seas  was  locked  up  safe  enough  in 
the  Texel.  In  Rotterdam  I  had  a  travelling-chaise  stripped, 
and  set  off  at  the  devil's  pace  for  the  Texel.  You  must  know 
that  the  Avhole  Dutch  nation  was  in  an  uproar  —  as  much  of 
an  uproar  as  those  boors  ever  reach  —  over  the  arrival  of  your 
infamous  squadron.  The  Court  Party  and  our  ambassador 
were  for  having  you  kicked  out,  and  the  Republicans  for  mak- 
ing you  at  home.  I  heard  that  their  High  Mighti-iesses  had 
given  Paul  Jones  the  use  of  the  Texel  fort  for  his  wounded 
and  his  prisoners,  and  thither  I  ran.  And  I  was  even  cursing 
the  French  sentry  at  the  drawbridge  in  his  own  tongue,  when 
up  comes  your  commodore  himself.     You  may  quarter  me  if  I 


506  EICHARD   CARVEL 

wasn't  knocked  olf  my  feet  when  I  recognized  the  identica. 
peacock  of  a  sea-captain  we  had  pulled  out  of  Castle  Yard 
along  with  you,  and  oifered  a  commission  in  the  Royal 
Navy." 

"  Dolly  hadn't  told  you?  " 

"  Dolly  tell  me !  "  exclaimed  his  Lordship,  scornfully.  "  She 
was  in  a  state  to  tell  me  nothing  the  morning  I  left,  save  only 
to  bring  you  to  England  alive,  and  repeat  it  over  and  over. 
But  to  return  to  your  captain,  —  he,  too,  was  taken  all  aback. 
But  pres,ently  he  whipt  out  my  name,  and  I  his,  without  the 
Jones.  And  when  I  told  him  my  errand,  he  wept  on  my  neck, 
and  said  he  had  obtained  unlimited  leave  of  absence  for  you 
from  the  Paris  commissioners.  He  took  me  up  into  a  private 
room  in  the  fort,  where  you  were ;  and  the  surgeon,  who  was 
there  at  the  time,  said  that  your  chances  were  as  slim  as  any 
man's  he  had  ever  seen.  Faith,  you  looked  it,  my  lad.  At 
sight  of  your  face  I  took  one  big  gulp,  for  I  had  no  notion  of 
getting  you  back  to  her.  And  rather  than  come  without  you, 
and  look  into  her  eyes,  I  would  have  drowned  myself  in  the 
Straits  of  Dover. 

"Despite  the  host  of  troubles  he  had  on  his  hands,  your 
commodore  himself  came  with  us  to  Rotterdam.  Now  I  pro- 
test I  love  that  man,  who  has  more  humanity  in  him  than  most 
of  the  virtuous  people  in  England  who  call  him  hard  names, 
If  you  could  have  seen  him  leaning  over  you,  and  speaking  to 
you,  and  feeling  every  minute  for  your  heart-beats,  egad,  you 
would  have  cried.  And  when  I  took  you  off  to  the  schooner, 
he  gave  me  an  hundred  directions  how  to  care  for  you,  and 
then  his  sorrow  bowled  him  all  in  a  heap." 

"And  is  the  commodore  still  at  the  Texel?"  I  asked,  after 
a  space. 

"Ay,  that  he  is,  with  our  English  cruisers  thick  as  gulls 
outside  waiting  for  a  dead  fish.  But  he  has  spurned  the  French 
commission  they  have  offered  him,  saying  that  of  the  Congress 
is  good  enough  for  him.  And  he  declares  openly  that  when 
he  gets  ready  he  Avill  sail  out  in  the  Alliance  under  the  ocars 
and  Stripes.  And  for  this  I  honour  him,"  added  he,  "and 
Charles  honours  him,  and  so  must  all  Englishmen  honour  him 


MORE   DISCOVERIES  507 

when  they  come  to  their  senses.  And  by  Gad's  life,  I  believe 
he  will  get  clear,  for  he  is  a  marvel  at  seamanship." 

"I  pray  with  all  my  heart  that  he  may,"  said  I,  fervently. 

"God  help  him  if  they  catch  him!"  my  Lord  exclaimed. 
"  You  should  see  the  bloody  piratical  portraits  they  are  scat- 
tering over  London." 

"  Has  the  risk  you  ran  getting  me  into  England  ever  occurred 
to  you,  Jack?"  I  asked,  with  some  curiosity. 

"Faith,  not  until  the  day  after  we  got  back,  Richard,"  says 
he,  "when  I  met  Mr.  Attorney  General  on  the  street.  'Sdeath, 
I  turned  and  ran  the  other  way  like  the  devil  was  after  me. 
For  Charles  Fox  vows  that  conscience  makes  cowards  of  the 
best  of  us." 

"  So  that  is  some  of  Charles's  wisdom !  "  I  cried,  and  laughed 
until  I  was  forced  to  stop  from  pain. 

"Come,  my  hearty,"  says  Jack,  "you  owe  me  nothing  for 
fishing  you  out  of  Holland  —  that  is  her  debt.  But  I  declare 
that  you  must  one  day  pay  me  for  saving  her  for  you.  What! 
have  I  not  always  sworn  tliat  she  loved  you?  Did  I  not  pull 
you  into  the  coffee-room  of  the  Star  and  Garter  years  ago,  and 
tell  you  that  same?" 

My  face  warmed,  though  I  said  nothing. 

"Oh,  you  sly  dog!  I'll  warrant  there  has  been  many  a 
tender  talk  just  wliere  I'm  sitting," 

"Not  one,"  said  I. 

"  'Slife,  then,  what  have  you  been  doing,"  he  cries,  "seeing 
her  every  day  and  not  asking  her  to  marry  you,  my  master  of 
Carvel  Hall?" 

"  Since  I  am  permitted  to  use  my  tongue,  she  has  not  come 
near  me,  save  when  I  slept,"  I  answered  ruefully. 

"  Nor  will  she,  I'll  be  sworn,"  says  he,  shaken  with  laughter. 
"'Ods,  have  you  no  invention?  Egad,  you  must  feign  sleep, 
and  seize  her  unawares." 

I  did  not  inform  his  Lordship  how  excellent  this  plan  seemed 
to  me. 

"ii.nd  I  possessed  the  love  of  such  a  woman,  Richard,"  he 
said,  in  another  tone,  "I  think  I  should  die  of  happiness.  She 
will  never  tell  you  how  these  weeks  past  she  has  scarce  left 


508  EICHAED   CARVEL 

your  side.  The  threats  combined  of  her  mother  and  the  doctorj 
and  Charles  and  me,  would  not  induce  her  to  take  any  sleep. 
And  time  and  time  have  I  walked  from  here  to  Brook  Street 
without  recognizing  a  step  of  the  way,  lifted  clear  out  of  my- 
self by  the  sight  of  her  devotion," 

What  was  my  life,  indeed,  that  such  a  blessing  should  come 
into  it! 

"When  the  crash  came,"  he  continued,  "'twas  she  took 
command,  and  'tis  God's  pity  she  had  not  done  so  long  before. 
Mr.  Marmaduke  was  pushed  to  the  bottom  of  the  family,  where 
he  belongs,  and  was  given  only  snuff-money.  She  would  give 
him  no  opportunity  to  contract  another  debt,  and  even  charged 
Charles  and  me  to  loan  him  nothing.  Nor  would  she  receive 
aught  from  us,  but "  (he  glanced  at  me  uneasily)  — ■ "  but  she 
and  Mrs.  Manners  must  take  to  cooking  delicacies  —  " 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know,"  I  faltered. 

"What!  has  the  pup23y  told  you?"  cried  he. 

I  nodded.     "He  was  in  here  this  morning,  with  his  woes." 

"  And  did  he  speak  of  the  bargain  he  tried  to  make  with  our 
old  friend,  his  Grace  of  Chartersea?  " 

"He  tried  to  sell  her  again?"  I  cried,  my  breath  catch- 
ing. "  I  have  feared  as  much  since  I  heard  of  their  misfor- 
tunes." 

"Yes,"  replied  Comyn,  "that  was  the  first  of  it.  'T^\as 
while  they  were  still  in  Arlington  Street,  and  before  Mrs. 
Manners  and  Dorothy  knew.  Mr.  Marmaduke  goes  posting  off 
to  Nottinghamshire,  and  comes  back  inside  the  duke's  OAvn  car- 
riage. And  his  Grace  goes  to  dine  in  Arlington  Street  for  the 
first  time  in  years.  Dorothy  had  wind  of  the  trouble  then, 
Charles  having  warned  her.  And  not  a  word  would  she  speak 
to  Chartersea  the  whole  of  the  dinner,  nor  look  to  the  right  or 
left  of  her  plate.  And  when  the  servants  are  gone,  up  gets 
my  lady  with  a  sweep  and  confronts  him. 

"  'Will  your  Grace  spare  me  a  minute  in  the  drawing-room? 
says  she. 

"  He  blinked  at  her  in  vast  astonishment,  and  pushed  back 
his  chair.  When  she  was  come  to  the  door,  she  turns  with 
another  sweep  on  Mr.  Marmaduke,  who  was  trotting  after. 


MORE  DISCOVERIES  509 

'*'•  You  will  please  to  remain  here,  father/  she  said,  'what 
I  am  to  say  is  for  his  Grace's  ear  alone.' 

"  Of  what  she  spoke  to  the  duke  I  can  form  only  an  estimate^ 
Richard,"  my  Lord  concluded,  "but  I'll  lay  a  fortune  'twas 
greatly  to  the  point.  For  in  a  little  while  Chartersea  comes 
stumbling  down  the  steps.  And  lie  has  never  darkened  the 
door  since.  And  the  cream  of  it  is,"  said  Comyn,  ".that  her 
father  gave  me  this  himself,  with  a  face  a  foot  long,  for  me  to 
sympathize.    The  little  beast  has  strange  bursts  of  confidence." 

"And  stranger  confidants,"  I  ejaculated,  thinking  of  the 
morning,  and  of  Courtenay's  letter,  long  ago. 

But  the  story  had  made  my  blood  leap  again  with  pride  of 
her.  The  picture  in  my  mind  had  followed  his  every  sentence, 
and  even  the  very  words  she  must  have  used  were  ringing  in 
my  ears. 

Then,  as  we  sat  talking  in  low  tones,  the  door  opened,  and 
a  hearty  voice  cried  out :  — 

"  Now  where  is  this  rebel,  this  traitor?  They  tell  me  one 
lies  hid  in  this  house.     'Slife,  I  must  have  at  him! " 

"  Mr.  Eox !  "  I  exclaimed. 
■     He  took  my  hands  in  his,  and  stood  regarding  me. 

"For  the  convenience  of  my  friends,  I  was  christened 
Charles,"  said  he. 

I  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  He  was  grown  a  deal  stouter, 
but  my  eye  was  caught  and  held  by  the  blue  coat  and  buff 
waistcoat  he  wore.  They  were  frayed  and  stained  and  shabby, 
yet  they.seemed  all  of  a  piece  with  some  new  grandeur  come 
upon  the  man. 

"Is  all  the  world  turning  virtuous?  Is  the  millennium 
arrived?"  I  cried. 

He  smiled,  with  his  old  boyish  smile. 

"You  think  me  changed  some  since  that  morning  we  drove 
together  to  Holland  House  —  do  you  remember  it  —  after  the 
night  at  St.  Stephen's?" 

"Remember  it!"  I  repeated,  with  emphasis,  "I'll  warrant 
I  can  give  you  every  bit  of  our  talk." 

"  I  have  seen  many  men  since,  but  never  have  I  met  your 
equal  for  a  most  damnable  frankness,  Richard  Carvel.     Even 


510  RICHARD   CARVEL 

Jack,  here,  is  not  half  so  blunt  and  uncompromising.  But 
you  took  my  fancy  —  God  knows  why!  —  that  first  night  I 
clapped  eyes  on  you  in  Arlington  Street,  and  I  loved  you  when 
your  simplicity  made  us  that  speech  at  Brooks's  Club.  So  you 
have  not  forgotten  that  morning  under  the  trees,  when  the  dew 
was  on  the  grass.  Faith,  I  am  glad  of  it.  What  children  we 
were!'\he  said,  and  sighed. 

"And  yet  you  were  a  Junior  Lord,"  I  said. 

"Which  is  more  than  I  am  now,"  he  answered.  "Somehow 
—  you  may  laugh  —  somehow  I  have  never  been  able  to  shake 
off  the  influence  of  your  words,  Richard.  Your  cursed  earnest- 
ness scared  me," 

"Scared  you?"  I  cried,  in  astonishment. 

"Just  that,"  said  Charles.  "Jack  Avill  bear  witness  that  I 
have  said  so  to  Dolly  a  score  of  times.  For  I  had  never  imag- 
ined such  a  single  character  as  yours.  You  know  we  were  all 
of  us  rakes  at  fifteen,  to  whom  everything  good  in  the  universe 
was  a  joke.  And  do  you  recall  the  teamster  we  met  by  the 
Park,  and  how  he  arrested  his  salute  when  he  saw  who  it  was? 
At  another  time  I  should  have  laughed  over  that,  but  it  cut  me 
to  have  it  happen  when  you  were  along." 

"And  I'll  lay  an  hundred  guineas  to  a  farthing  the  fellow 
would  put  his  head  on  the  block  for  Charles  now,"  cut  in  his 
Lordship,  with  his  hand  on  Mr.  Fox's  shoulder.  "  Behold,  0 
Prophet,"  he  cried,  "one  who  is  become  the  champion  of  the 
People  he  reviled!  Behold  the  friend  of  Rebellion  and  LUe 
Majeste,  the  viper  in  Britannia's  bosom!" 

"Oh,  have  done.  Jack,"  said  Mr.  Fox,  impatiently,  "you 
have  no  more  music  in  your  soul  than  a  cow.  Damned  little 
virtue  attaches  to  it,  Richard,"  he  went  on.  "North  threw 
me  out,  and  the  king  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  me,  so  I 
had  to  pick  up  with  you  rebels  and  traitois." 

"You  will  not  believe  hira,  Richard,"  cried  my  Lord;  "you 
have  only  to  look  at  him  to  see  that  he  lies.  Take  note  of  the 
ragged  uniform  of  the  rebel  army  he  carries,  and  then  think 
of  him  en  petit  maitre,  with  his  cabriolet  and  his  chestnuts. 
Egad,  he  might  be  as  rich  as  Rigby  were  it  not  for  those  prin- 
ciples which  he  chooses  to  deride.     And  I  have  seen  hirjo 


MORE  DISCOVERIES  611 

reduced  to  a  crown  for  them.  I  tell  you,  Richard,"  said  my 
Lord,  "by  espousing  your  cause  Charles  is  become  greater 
than  the  King.  For  he  has  the  hearts  of  the  English  people, 
which  George  has  not,  and  the  allegiance  of  you  Americans, 
which  George  will  never  have.  And  if  you  once  heard  him 
in  Parliament,  you  should  hear  him  now,  and  see  the  Speakei 
wagging  his  wig  like  a  man  bewitched,  and  hear  friends  and 
enemies  calling  out  for  him  to  go  on  whenever  he  gives  the  sign 
of  a  pause." 

This  speech  of  his  Lordship's  may  seem  cold  in  the  writing. 
my  dears,  and  you  who  did  not  know  him  may  wonder  at  it. 
It  had  its  birth  in  an  admiration  few  men  receive,  and  which, 
in  Charles  Fox's  devoted  coterie  was  dangerously  near  to 
idolatry.  During  the  recital  of  it  Charles  walked  to  the  win- 
dow, and  there  stood  looking  out  upon  the  gray  prospect, 
seemingly  paying  but  little  attention.  But  when  Comyn  had 
finished,  he  wheeled  on  us  with  a  smile. 

"Egad,  he  will  be  telling  you  next  that  I  have  renounced 
the  devil  and  all  his  works,  Richard,"  said  he. 

"  'Oons,  that  I  will  not,'  his  Lordship  made  haste  to  declare. 
"For  they  were  born  in  him,  and  will  die  with  him." 

"And  you,  Jack,"  I  asked,  "how  is  it  that  you  are  not  in 
arms,  for  the  King,  and  commanding  one  of  his  frigates?" 

"  Why,  it  is  Charles's  fault,"  said  my  Lord,  smiling.  "Were 
it  not  for  him  I  should  be  helping  Sir  George  Collier  lay 
waste  to  your  coast  towns." 


CHAPTER  LV 

**THE  LOVE   OP   A    MAID    FOR   A    MAN " 

The  next  morning,  wlien  Dr.  Barry  had  gone,  Mrs.  Manners 
propped  me  up  in  bed  and  left  me  for  a  little,  so  she  said. 
Then  who  should  come  in  with  my  breakfast  on  a  tray  but  my 
lady  herself,  looking  so  fresh  and  beautiful  that  she  startled 
me  vastly. 

"A  penny  for  your  thoughts,  Richard,"  she  cried.  ''Why, 
you  are  as  grave  as  a  screech-owl  this  brave  morning." 

"To  speak  truth,  Dolly,"  said  I,  "I  was  wondering  how  the 
commodore  is  to  get  away  from  the  Texel,  with  half  the  Bi  itish 
aavy  lying  in  wait  outside." 

"Do  not  worry  your  head  about  that,"  said  she,  setting  down 
the  tray;  "it  will  be  mere  child's  play  to  him.  Oh,  but  I 
should  like  to  see  your  commodore  again,  and  tell  him  how 
much  I  love  him." 

"I  pray  that  you  may  have  the  chance,"  I  replied. 

With  a  marvellous  quickness  she  had  tied  the  napkin  beneath 
my  chin,  not  so  much  as  looking  at  the  knot.  Then  she  stepped 
to  the  mantel  and  took  down  one  of  Mr.  Wedgwood's  cups 
and  dishes,  and  wiping  them  with  her  apron,  filled  the  cup 
with  fragrant  tea,  which  she  tendered  me  with  her  eyes  spar- 
kling. 

"Your  Excellency  is  the  first  to  be  honoured  with  this  ser- 
vice," says  she,  with  a  curtsey. 

I  was  as  a  man  Avithout  a  tongue,  my  hunger  gone  fron? 
sheer  happiness  —  and  fright.  And  yet  eating  the  breakfast 
with  a  relish  because  she  had  made  it.  She  busied  herself 
about  the  room,  dusting  here  and  tidying  there,  and  anon 
throwing   a   glance  at  me  to  see  if  I  needed  anything.     My 

612 


«THE  LOVE  OF  A  MAID  FOR  A  MAN"       513 

eyes  followed  her  hither  and  thither.  When  I  had  finished, 
she  undid  the  napkin,  and  brushed  the  crumbs  from  tlie  cover- 
let. 

"  You  are  not  going?  "  I  said,  with  dismay. 

"Did  you  wish  anything  more,  sir?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  Dorothy, "  I  cried,  "  it  is  you  I  want,  and  you  will  not 
come  near  me." 

For  an  instant  she  stood  irresolute.  Then  she  put  down  the 
tray  and  came  over  beside  me. 

"Do  you  really  want  me,  sir? 

"Dorothy,"  I  began,  "  I  must  first  tell  you  that  I  have  some 
guess  at  the  sacrifice  you  are  making  for  my  sake,  and  of  the 
trouble  and  danger  which  I  bring  you." 

Without  more  ado  she  put  her  hand  over  my  mouth. 

"No,"  she  said,  reddening,  "you  shall  tell  me  nothing  of 
the  sort." 

I  seized  her  hand,  however  it  struggled,  and  holding  it  fast, 
continued:  — 

"And  I  have  learned  that  you  have  been  watching  with  me 
by  night,  and  working  by  day,  when  you  never  should  liave 
worked  at  all.  To  think  that  you  should  be  reduced  to  that, 
and  I  not  know  it !  " 

Her  eyes  sought  mine  for  a  fleeting  second. 

"Why,  you  silly  boy,  I  have  made  a  fortune  out  of  my 
cookery.  And  fame,  too,  for  now  am  I  known  from  Mary-le- 
bone  to  Chelsea,  while  before  my  name  was  unheard  of  out  of 
little  May  fair.  Indeed,  I  would  not  have  missed  the  experi- 
ence for  a  lady-in-waiting-ship.  I  have  learned  a  deal  since 
I  saw  you  last,  sir.  I  know  that  the  world,  like  our  Conti- 
nental money,  must  not  be  taken  for  the  price  that  is  stamped 
upon  it.  And  as  for  the  watching  with  you,"  said  my  lady, 
"  that  had  to  be  borne  with  as  cheerfully  as  might  be.  Since 
I  had  sent  off  for  you,  I  Avas  in  duty  bound  to  do  my  share 
toward  your  recovery.  I  was  even  going  to  add  that  this 
watching  was  a  pleasure,  —  our  curate  says  the  sense  of  duty 
performed  is  sure  to  be.  But  you  used  to  cry  out  the  most  ter- 
rifying things  to  frighten  me :  the  pattering  of  blood  and  the 
bumping  of  bodies  on  the  decks,  and  the  black  rivulets  that 
2i 


514  EICHARD   CARVEL 

ran  and  ran  and  ran  and  never  stopped;  and  strange,  rough 
commands  I  could  not  understand;  and  the  name  of  your 
commodore  whom  you  love  so  much.  And  often  you  would 
repeat  over  and  over :  '  /  have  not  yet  begun  to  fight,  I  have  not 
yet  begun  to  fight! '  " 

"  Yes,  'twas  that  he  answered  when  they  asked  him  if  he 
had  struck,"  I  exclaimed. 

"It  must  have  been  an  awful  scene,"  she  said,  and  her 
shoulders  quivered.  "When  you  were  at  your  worst  you 
would  talk  of  it,  and  sometimes  of  what  happened  to  you  in 
London,  of  that  ride  in  Hyde  Park,  or  —  or  of  Vauxhall,"  she 
continued  hurriedly.  "  And  when  I  could  bear  it  no  longer, 
I  would  take  your  hand  and  call  you  by  name,  and  often  quiet 
you  thus." 

"And  did  I  speak  of  aught  else?"  I  asked  eagerly, 

"  Oh,  yes.  When  you  were  calmer,  it  would  be  of  your 
childhood,  of  your  grandfather  and  your  birthdays,  of  Captain 
Clapsaddle,  and  of  Patty  and  her  father." 

"  And  never  of  Dolly,  I  suppose." 

She  turned  away  her  head. 

"And  never  of  Dolly?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  you  said  once,  Richard,"  she  answered, 
her  voice  dropping  very  low.  "  I  was  sitting  by  the  window 
there,  and  the  dawn  was  coming.  And  suddenly  I  heard  you 
cry:  *  Patty,  when  I  return  will  you  be  my  wife?'  I  got  up 
and  came  to  your  side,  and  you  said  it  again,  twice." 

The  room  was  very  still.  And  the  vision  of  Patty  in  the 
parlour  of  Gordon's  Pride,  knitting  my  woollen  stocking,  rose 
before  me. 

"  Yes,"  I  said  at  length,  "I  asked  her  that  the  day  before  I 
left  for  the  war.  God  bless  her!  She  has  the  warmest  heart 
in  the  world,  and  the  most  generous  nature.  Do  you  know 
what  her  answer  was,  Dorothy?" 

"No."  'Twas  only  her  lips  moving  that  formed  the  word. 
She  was  twisting  absently  the  tassel  of  the  bed  curtain. 

"She  asked  me  if  I  loved  her." 

My  lady  glanced  up  with  a  start,  then  looked  me  searchingly 
through  and  through. 


« THE  LOVE  OF  A  MAID  FOE.  A  MAl^  '        515 

"And  you?"  she  said,  in  the  same  inaudible  way. 

"I  could  answer  nothing.  'Twas  because  of  her  father's 
dying  wish  I  asked  her,  and  she  guessed  that  same.  I  would 
not  tell  her  a  lie,  for  only  the  one  woman  lives  whom  I  love, 
and  whom  I  have  loved  ever  since  we  were  children  together 
among  the  strawberries.  Need  I  say  tliat  that  woman  is  you, 
Dorothy?  I  loved  you  before  we  sailed  to  Carvel  Hall  between 
my  grandfather's  knees,  and  I  will  love  you  till  death  claims 
me." 

Then  it  seemed  as  if  my  heart  had  stopped  beating.  But 
the  snowy  apron  upon  her  breast  fluttered  like  a  sail  stirring 
in  the  wind,  her  head  was  high,  and  her  eyes  were  far  away. 
Even  my  voice  sounded  in  the  distance  as  I  continued:  — 

"Will  you  be  the  mistress  of  Carvel  Hall,  Dorothy?  Hal- 
lowed is  the  day  that  I  can  ask  it." 

What  of  this  earth  may  excel  in  sweetness  the  surrender  of 
that  proud  and  noble  nature !  And  her  words,  my  dears,  shall 
be  sacred  to  you,  too,  who  are  descended  from  her.  She  bent 
forward  a  little,  those  deep  blue  eyes  gazing  full  into  my  own 
witli  a  fondness  to  make  me  tremble. 

"Dear  Richard,"  she  said,  "I  believe  I  have  loved  you 
always.  If  I  have  been  wilful  and  wicked,  I  have  suffered 
more  than  you  know  —  even  as  I  have  made  you  suffer." 

"And  now  our  suffering  is  over,  Dorothy." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  that,  my  dear!  "  she  cried,  "but  let  us  rather 
make  a  prayer  to  God." 

DoAvn  she  got  on  her  knees  close  beside  me,  and  I  took  both 
of  her  hands  between  my  own.  But  presently  I  sought  for  a 
riband  that  was  around  my  neck,  and  drew  out  a  locket. 
Within  it  were  pressed  those  lilies  of  the  valley  I  had  picked 
for  her  long  years  gone  by  on  my  birthday.  And  she  smiled, 
though  the  tears  shone  like  dewdrops  on  her  lashes. 

"  When  Jack  brought  you  to  us  for  dead,  we  did  not  take  it 
off,  dear, "  she  said  gently.  "  I  wept  with  sorrow  and  joy  at 
sight  of  it,  for  I  remembered  you  as  you  were  when  you  picked 
those  flowers,  and  how  lightly  I  had  thought  of  leaving  you 
as  I  wound  them  into  my  hair.  And  then,  when  I  had  gone 
aboard  the  Annapolis,  I  knew  all  at  once  that  I  would  hate 


516  RICHARD   CARVEL 

given  anything  to  stay,  and  I  thought  my  heart  would  brealj 
when  we  left  the  Severn  cliffs  behind.  But  that,  sir,  has  been 
a  secret  until  this  day,"  she  added,  smiling  archly  through 
her  tears. 

She  took  out  one  of  the  withered  flowers,  and  then  as  caress- 
ingly put  it  back  beside  the  others,  and  closed  the  locket. 

"  I  forbade  Dr.  Barry  to  take  it  off,  Richard,  when  you  lay 
so  white  and  still.  I  knew  then  that  you  had  been  true  to  me, 
despite  what  I  had  heard.  And  if  you  were  to  die  — "  her 
voice  broke  a  little  as  she  passed  her  hand  over  my  brow,  "  if 
you  were  to  die,  my  single  comfort  would  have  been  that  you 
wore  it  then." 

"And  you  heard  rumours  of  me,  Dorothy?" 

"George  Worthington  and  others  told  me  how  ably  you 
managed  Mr.  Swain's  affairs,  and  that  you  had  become  of  some 
weight  with  the  thinking  men  of  the  province.  Richard,  1 
was  proud  to  think  that  you  had  the  courage  to  laugh  at 
disaster  and  to  become  a  factor.  I  believe,"  she  said  shyly, 
"  'twas  that  put  the  cooking  into  my  head,  and  gave  me 
courage.  And  when  I  heard  that  Patty  was  to  marry  you. 
Heaven  is  my  witness  that  I  tried  to  be  reconciled  and  think 
it  for  the  best.  Through  my  own  fault  I  had  lost  you,  and  I 
knew  well  she  would  make  you  a  better  wife  than  I." 

"And  you  would  not  even  let  Jack  speak  for  me!  " 

"Dear  Jack!"  she  cried;  "were  it  not  for  Jack  we  should 
not  be  here,  Richard." 

"  Indeed,  Dolly,  two  people  could  scarce  fall  deeper  in  debt 
to  another  than  are  you  and  I  to  my  Lord  Viscount,"  I  an- 
swered, with  feeling.  "His  honesty  and  loyalty  to  us  both 
saved  you  for  me  at  the  very  outset." 

"Yes,"  she  replied  thoughtfully,  "I  believed  you  dead. 
And  I  should  have  married  him,  I  think.  For  Dr.  Courtenay 
had  sent  me  that  piece  from  the  Gazette  telling  of  the  duel 
between  you  over  Patty  Swain  —  " 

"  Dr.  Courtenay  sent  you  that !  "  I  interrupted 

"I  was  a  wild  young  creature  then,  my  dear,  with  little 
beside  vanity  under  my  cap.  And  the  notion  that  you  could 
admire  and  love  any  girl  but  me  was  beyond  endurance.    Then 


"THE  LOVE  OF  A  MAID  FOR  A  MAN"       517 


his  Lordship  arrived  in  England,  brimming  with  praise  of  you, 
to  assure  me  that  the  affair  was  not  about  Patty  at  all.  This 
was  far  from  making  me  satisfied  that  you  were  not  in  love 
with  her,  and  I  may  say  now  that  I  was  miserable.  Then,  as 
we  were  setting  out  for  Castle  Howard,  came  the  news  of  your 
death  on  the  road  to  Upper  Marlboro'.  I  could  not  go  a  step. 
Poor  Jack,  he  was  very  honest  when  he  proposed,"  she  added, 
with  a  sigh. 

"He  loved  you,  Dorothy." 

She  did  not  hear  me,  so  deep  was  she  in  thought. 

"  'Twas  he  who  gave  me  news  of  you,  when  I  was  starving 
at  Gordon's." 

"And  I  —  I  starved,  too,  Richard,"  she  answered  softly. 
"  Dearest,  I  did  very  wrong.  There  are  some  matters  that 
must  be  spoken  of  between  us,  whatever  the  pain  they  give. 
And  my  heart  aches  now  when  I  think  of  that  dark  day  in 
Arlington  Street  when  I  gave  you  the  locket,  and  you  went  out 
of  my  life.  I  knew  that  I  had  done  wrong  then,  Richard,  as 
soon  as  ever  the  door  closed  behind  you.  I  should  have  gone 
with  you,  for  better  for  worse,  for  richer  for  poorer.  I  should 
have  run  after  you  in  the  rain  and  thrown  myself  at  your  feet. 
And  that  would  have  been  best  for  my  father  and  for  me." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  her  words  were 
stifled  by  a  sob. 

"  Dorothy,  Dorothy !  "  I  cried,  drawing  her  to  me.  "  Another 
time.     Not  now,  when  we  are  so  happy." 

"Now,  and  never  again,  dear,"  she  said.  "Yes,  I  saw  and 
heard  all  that  passed  in  the  drawing-room.  And  I  did  not 
blame,  but  praised  you  for  it.  I  have  never  spoken  a  word 
beyond  necessity  to  my  father  since.  God  forgive  me!"  she 
cried,  "but  I  have  despised  him  from  that  hovir.  When  I 
knew  that  he  had  plotted  to  sell  me  to  that  detestable  brute, 
working  upon  me  to  save  his  honour,  of  which  he  has  not  the 
smallest  spark;  that  he  had  recognized  and  denied  you,  friend- 
less before  our  house,  and  sent  you  into  the  darkness  at  Vaux- 
hall  to  be  murdered,  then  he  was  no  father  of  mine.  I  would 
that  you  might  know  what  my  mother  has  suffered  from  such 
a  man,  Richard." 


518  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"  My  dear,  I  have  often  pitied  her  from  my  soul, "  I  said. 

"  And  now  I  shall  tell  you  something  of  the  story  of  the  Duke 
of  Chartersea, "  she  went  on,  and  I  felt  her  tremble  as  she  spoke 
that  name.  "  I  think  of  all  we  have  Lord  Comyn  to  thank  for, 
next  to  saving  your  life  twice,  was  his  telling  you  of  the  dan- 
ger I  ran.  And,  Richard,  after  refusing  you  that  day  on  the 
balcony  over  the  Park,  I  had  no  hope  left.  You  may  thank 
your  own  nobility  and  courage  that  you  remained  in  London 
after  that.  Richard,"  she  said,  "do  you  recall  my  asking  you 
in  the  coach,  on  the  way  from  Castle  Yard,  for  the  exact  day 
you  met  my  father  in  Arlington  Street  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  in  some  excitement,  "yes."  For  I  was  at 
last  to  come  at  the  bottom  of  this  affair. 

"  The  duke  had  made  a  formal  offer  for  me  when  first  we 
came  to  Loudon.  I  think  my  father  wrote  of  that  to  Dr. 
Courtenay."  (I  smiled  at  the  recollection,  now.)  "Then  his 
Grace  persisted  in  following  me  everywhere,  and  vowed  pub- 
licly that  he  would  marry  me.  I  ordered  him  from  our  house, 
since  my  father  would  not.  At  last  one  afternoon  he  came 
back  to  dine  with  us,  insolent  to  excess.  I  left  the  table.  He 
sat  with  my  father  two  hours  or  more,  drinking  and  singing, 
and  giving  orders  to  the  servants.  I  shut  my  door,  that  I 
might  not  hear.  After  a  while  my  mother  came  up  to  me, 
crying,  saying  that  Mr.  Manners  would  be  branded  with  dis- 
honour and  I  did  not  consent  to  marry  his  Grace,  —  a  most 
terrible  dishonour,  of  which  she  could  not  speak.  That  the 
duke  had  given  my  father  a  month  to  win  my  consent.  And 
that  month  was  up,  Richard,  the  very  afternoon  you  appeared 
with  Mr.  Dix  in  Arlington  Street." 

"And  you  agreed  to  marry  him,  Dolly?"  I  asked  breath- 
lessly. 

"By  the  grace  of  Heaven,  I  did  not,"  she  answered  quickly. 
"  The  utmost  that  I  would  consent  to  was  a  two  months'  respite, 
promising  to  give  my  hand  to  no  one  in  that  interval.  And 
so  I  was  forced  to  refuse  you,  Richard.  You  must  have  seen 
even  then  that  I  loved  you,  dear,  though  I  was  so  cruel  when 
you  spoke  of  saving  me  from  his  Grace.  I  could  not  bear  to 
think  that  you  knew  of  any  stain  upon  our  family.     I  think 


"THE  LOVE  OF  A  MAID  FOR  A  MAN"       519 

—  I  think  I  would  rather  have  died,  or  have  married  him. 
That  day  I  tlirew  Chartersea's  presents  out  of  the  window,  but 
my  father  made  the  servants  gather  them  all  which  escaped 
breaking,  and  put  them  in  the  drawing-room.     Then  I  fell  ill." 

She  was  silent,  I  clinging  to  her,  and  shuddering  to  think 
how  near  I  had  been  to  losing  her. 

"It  was  Jack  who  came  to  cheer  me,"  I  said  presently. 
"His  faith  in  you  was  never  shaken,  sweetheart.  But  I  went 
to  Newmarket  and  Ampthill,  and  behaved  like  the  iugrate  I 
was.  I  richly  deserved  the  scolding  he  had  for  me  when  I 
got  back  to  town,  which  sent  me  running  to  Arlington  Street. 
There  I  met  Dr.  James  coming  out,  who  asked  me  if  I  was  Mr. 
Carvel,  and  told  me  that  you  had  called  my  name." 

"And,  you  goose,  you  never  suspected,"  says  she,  smiling. 

"  How  was  I  to  suspect  that  you  loved  a  provincial  booby 
like  me,  when  you  had  the  choice  of  so  many  accomplished 
gentlemen  with  titles  and  estates?" 

"  How  were  you  to  perceive,  indeed,  that  you  had  qualities 
which  they  lacked?" 

"And  you  were  forever  vowing  that  you  would  marry  a 
nobleman,  my  lady.  For  you  said  to  me  once  that  I  should 
call  you  so,  and  ride  in  the  coach  with  the  coroneted  panels 
when  I  came  home  on  a  visit." 

"And  I  said,  too,"  retorted  Dolly,  with  mischief  in  her 
eyes,  "do  you  remember  what  I  told  you  the  New  Year's  eve 
when  Ave  sat  out  by  the  sundial  at  Carvel  Hall,  when  I  was  so 
proud  of  having  fixed  Dr.  Courtenay's  attentions?  I  said  that 
I  should  never  marry  you,  sir,  who  was  so  rough  and  master- 
ful, and  thrashed  every  lad  that  did  not  agree  with  you." 

"  Alas,  so  you  did,  and  a  deal  more !  "  I  exclaimed. 

With  that  she  broke  away  from  me  and,  getting  to  her  feet, 
made  me  a  low  curtsey  with  the  grace  that  was  hers  alone. 

"You  are  my  Lord  and  my  King,  sir,"  she  said,  "and  my 
rough  Patriot  squire,  all  in  one." 

"Are  you  happy,  Dolly?"  I  asked,  tremulous  from  my  own 

joy- 

"I  have  never  been  happy  in  all  my  life  before,  Eichard 
dear,"  she  said. 


520  RICHARD   CARVEL 

In  truth,  she  was  a  being  transformed,  and  more  wondrous 
fair  than  ever.  And  even  then  I  pictured  her  in  the  brave 
gowns  and  jewels  I  would  buy  her  when  times  were  mended, 
when  our  dear  country  would  be  free.  All  at  once,  ere  I  could 
draw  a  breath,  she  had  stooped  and  kissed  me  ever  so  lightly 
on  the  forehead. 

The  door  opened  upon  Aunt  Lucy.  She  had  but  to  look  at 
us,  and  her  black  face  beamed  at  our  blushes.  My  lady  threw 
her  arms  about  her  neck,  and  hid  her  face  in  the  ample  bosom. 

"Now  praise  de  good  Lawd!"  cried  Mammy;  "I  knowed 
it  dis  longest  time.  What's  I  done  tole  you.  Miss  Dolly? 
What's  I  done  tole  you,  honey?" 

But  my  lady  flew  from  the  room.  Presently  I  heard  the 
spinet  playing  softly,  and  the  words  of  that  air  came  out  of 
my  heart  from  long  ago. 

"  Love  me  little,  love  me  long, 
Is  the  burthen  of  my  song. 
Love  that  is  too  hot  and  strong 

Burneth  soon  to  waste. 
Still,  I  would  not  have  thee  cold, 
Nor  too  backward,  nor  too  bold. 
Love  that  lasteth  till  'tis  old 

Fadeth  not  in  haste." 


CHAPTER   LVI 

HOW    GOOD    CAME   OUT    OF    EYIL 

*TwAs  about  candlelight  when  I  awoke,  and  Dorothy  was 
sitting  alone  beside  me.  Her  fingers  were  resting  upon  my 
arm,  and  she  greeted  me  with  a  smile  all  tenderness. 

"  And  does  my  Lord  feel  better  after  —  after  his  excitement 
to-day?"  she  asked, 

"Dorothy,  you  have  made  me  a  whole  man  again,  I  could 
walk  to  Windsor  and  back." 

"  You  must  have  your  dinner,  or  your  supper  first,  sir, "  she 
answered  gayly,  "  and  do  you  rest  quiet  until  I  come  back  to 
feed  you.  Oh,  Richard  dear,"  she  cried,  "how  delightful  that 
you  should  be  the  helpless  one,  and  dependent  on  me ! " 

As  I  lay  listening  for  the  rustle  of  her  gown,  the  minutes 
dragged  eternally.  Every  word  and  gesture  of  the  morning 
passed  before  my  mind,  and  the  touch  of  her  lips  still  burned 
on  my  forehead.  At  last,  when  I  was  getting  fairly  restless, 
the  distant  tones  of  a  voice,  deep  and  reverberating,  smote 
upon  my  ear,  jarring  painfully  some  long-forgotten  chord. 
That  voice  belonged  to  but  one  man  alive,  and  yet  I  could  not 
name  him.  Even  as  I  strained,  the  tones  drew  nearer,  and 
they  were  mixed  with  sweeter  ones  I  knew  well,  and  Dorothy's 
mother's  voice.  Whilst  I  was  still  searching,  the  door  opened, 
the  voices  fell  calm,  and  Dorothy  came  in  bearing  a  candle  in 
each  hand.  As  she  set  them  down  on  the  table,  I  saw  an  agi- 
tation in  her  face,  which  she  strove  to  hide  as  she  addressed 
me. 

"Will  you  see  a  visitor,  Richard?" 

"A  visitor!  "  I  repeated,  with  misgiving.  'Twas  not  so  she 
had  announced  Comyn, 

621 


622  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"Will  you  see  Mr.  Allen?" 

"Mr.  Allen,  who  was  the  rector  of  St.  Anne's?  Mr.  Allen 
in  London,  and  here  f  " 

. "  Yes. "  Her  breath  seemed  to  catch  at  the  word.  "  He  says 
he  must  see  you,  dear,  and  will  not  be  denied.  How  he  dis- 
covered you  were  with  us  I  know  not." 

"See  him!"  I  cried.  "And  I  had  but  the  half  of  my 
strength  I  would  fling  him  downstairs,  and  into  the  kennel. 
Will  you  tell  him  so  for  me,  Dorothy?" 

And  I  raised  up  in  bed,  shaken  with  anger  against  the  man. 
In  a  trice  she  was  holding  me,  fearfully. 

"  Richard,  Richard,  you  will  open  your  wound.  I  pray  you 
be  quiet." 

"  And  Mr.  Allen  has  the  impudence  to  ask  to  see  me ! " 

"Listen,  Richard.  Your  anger  makes  you  forget  many 
things.  Remember  that  he  is  a  dangerous  man,  and  now  that 
he  knows  you  are  in  London  he  holds  your  liberty,  perhaps 
your  life,  in  his  hands." 

It  was  true.  And  not  mine  alone,  but  the  lives  and  liberty 
of  others. 

"Do  you  know  what  he  wishes,  Dorothy?" 

"No,  he  will  not  tell  us.  But  he  is  greatly  excited,  and 
says  he  must  see  you  at  once,  for  your  own  good.  For  your 
own  good,  Richard ! " 

"  I  do  not  trust  the  villain,  but  he  may  come  in, "  I  said,  at 
length. 

She  gave  me  the  one  lingering,  anxious  look,  and  opened 
the  door. 

Never  had  I  beheld  such  a  change  in  mortal  man  as  there  was 
in  Mr,  Allen,  my  old  tutor,  and  rector  of  St.  Anne's.  And 
'twas  a  baffling,  intangible  change.  'Twas  as  if  the  mask  had 
been  torn  from  his  face,  for  he  was  now  just  a  plain  adventurer 
that  need  not  have  imposed  upon  a  soul.  The  coarse  wine  and 
coarse  food  of  the  lower  coffee-houses  of  London  had  replaced 
the  rich  and  abundant  fare  of  Maryland.  The  next  day  was 
become  one  of  the  terrors  of  his  life.  His  clothes  were  of  poor 
stuff,  but  aimed  at  the  fashion.  And  yet  —  and  yet,  as  I 
looked  upon  him,  a  something  was  in  his  face  to  puzzle  me 


HOW   GOOD   CAME   OUT   OF  EVIL  523 

entirely.     I  had  seen  many  stamps  of  men,  but  this  thing  I 
could  not  recognize. 

He  stepped  forward  with  all  of  his  old  confidence,  and  did 
not  regard  a  farthing  my  cold  stare. 

"'Tis  like  gone  days  to  see  you  again,  Eichard,"  he  cried. 
"And  I  perceive  you  have  as  ever  fallen  into  the  best  of 
hands." 

"  I  am  Mr.  Carvel  to  my  enemies,  if  they  must  speak  to  me 
at  all,"  I  said. 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am  not  your  enemy,  or  I  should  not 
be  here  this  day.  And  presently  I  shall  prove  that  same." 
He  took  snuff.  "  But  first  I  must  congratulate  you  on  coming 
alive  out  of  that  great  battle  off  Flamborough.  You  look  as 
though  you  had  been  very  near  to  death,  my  lad.  A  deal  nearer 
than  I  should  care  to  get." 

What  to  say  to  the  man!  What  to  do  save  to  knock  him 
down,  and  I  could  not  do  that. 

"  There  can  be  no  passing  the  time  of  day  between  you  and 
me,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  answered  hotly.  "  You,  whose  machinations 
have  come  as  near  to  ruining  me  as  a  man's  can." 

"And  that  was  your  own  fault,  my  dear  sir,"  said  he,  as  he 
brushed  himself.  "  You  never  showed  me  a  whit  of  considera- 
tion, which  is  very  dear  to  men  in  my  position." 

My  head  swam.  Then  I  saw  Dolly  by  the  door  regarding 
me  curiously,  with  something  of  a  smile  upon  her  lips,  but 
anxiety  still  in  her  eyes.  With  a  "by  your  leave,  ma'am,"  to 
her,  Mr.  Allen  took  the  chair  abreast  me. 

"  You  have  but  to  call  me  when  you  wish,  Eichard,"  said  she. 

"  Nay,  Dorothy,  Mr.  Allen  can  have  nothing  to  say  to  me 
that  you  may  not  hear,"  I  said  instantly.  "And  you  will  do 
me  a  favour  to  remain." 

•  She  sat  down  Avithout  a  word,  where  I  could  look  at  her. 
Mr.  Allen  raised  his  eyebrows  at  the  revelation  in  our  talk, 
but  by  the  grace  of  God  he  kept  his  mouth  shut. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  said,  "to  what  do  I  owe  the  pain 
of  this  visit?  " 

"  The  pain ! "  he  exclaimed,  and  threw  back  his  head  and 
gave  way  to  a  fit  of  laughter.     "  By  the  mass !  your  politeness 


624  RICHARD  CARVEL 

drowns  me.  But  I  like  you,  Richard,  as  I  have  said  more 
than  once.  I  believe  your  brutal  straight-dealing  has  more  to 
do  with  my  predilection  than  aught  else.  For  I  have  seen  a 
deal  of  rogues  in  my  day." 

"And  they  have  seen  a  deal  of  you,  Mr.  Allen." 

"So  they  have,"  he  cried,  and  laughed  the  more.  "Egad, 
Miss  Dorothy,  you  have  saved  all  of  him,  I  think."  Then 
he  swung  round  upon  me,  very  careless.  "Has  your  Uncle 
Grafton  called  to  express  his  sympathies,  Richard?  "  he  asked. 

That  name  brought  a  cry  out  of  my  head,  Dolly  seizing 
the  arm  of  her  chair. 

"Grafton  Carvel  in  London?"  I  exclaimed. 

"Ay,  in  very  pretty  lodgings  in  Jermyn  Street,  for  he  has 
put  by  enough,  I'll  warrant  you,  despite  the  loss  of  his  lands. 
Your  aunt  is  with  him,  and  his  dutiful  son,  Philip,  now  broken 
of  his  rank  in  the  English  army.  They  arrived,  before  yester- 
day, from  New  York." 

"And  to  what  is  this  an  introduction?"  I  demanded. 

"I  merely  thought  it  strange,"  said  Mr.  Allen,  imperturb- 
ably,  "  that  he  had  not  called  to  inquire  after  his  nephew's 
health." 

Dolly  was  staring  at  him,  with  eyes  wide  open. 

"And  pray,  how  did  he  discover  I  was  in  London,  sir?"  1 
said.  "  I  was  about  to  ask  how  you  knew  of  it,  but  that  is 
one  and  the  same  thing." 

He  shot  at  me  a  look  not  to  be  solved. 

"  It  is  not  well  to  bite  the  hand  that  lifts  you  out  of  the 
fire,  Richard,"  said  he. 

"  You  had  not  gained  admission  to  this  house  were  I  not  on 
my  back,  Mr.  Allen." 

"And  that  same  circumstance  is  a  blessing  for  you,"  he 
cried. 

'Twas  then  I  saw  Dorothy  making  me  mute  signals  of 
appeal. 

"I  cannot  think  why  you  are  here,  Mr,  Allen,"  I  said. 
"When  you  consider  all  the  harm  you  have  done  me,  and  all 
the  double-dealing  I  may  lay  at  your  door,  can  you  blame  me 
for  my  feelings?" 


HOW   GOOD   CAME   OUT   OF  EVIL  525 

"No,"  he  answered,  with  more  soberness  than  he  had  yet 
used  ;  "  I  honour  you  for  them.  And  perchance  I  am  here  to 
atone  for  some  of  that  harm.  For  I  like  you,  my  lad,  and 
that's  God's  truth." 

"  All  this  is  neither  here  nor  there,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  exclaimed, 
wholly  out  of  patience.  "  If  you  have  come  with  a  message, 
let  me  have  it.  If  not,  I  beg  you  get  out  of  my  sight,  for  I 
have  neither  the  will  nor  the  desire  for  palavering." 

"Oh,  Richard,  do  keep  your  temper!"  implored  Dorothy. 
"  Can  you  not  see  that  Mr.  Allen  desires  to  do  us  —  to  do  you 
—  a  service?" 

"Of  that  I  am  not  so  sure,"  I  replied. 

"It  is  his  way,  Miss  Manners,"  said  the  rector,  "and  I  hold 
it  not  against  him.  To  speak  truth,  I  looked  for  a  worse 
reception,  and  came  steeled  to  withstand  it.  And  had  my  skin 
been  thin,  I  had  left  ere  now."  He  took  more  snuff.  "  It  was 
Mr.  Dix, "  he  said  to  me  slowly,  "  who  informed  Mr.  Carvel 
of  your  presence  in  London. " 

"And  how  the  devil  did  Mr.  Dix  know?" 

He  did  not  reply,  but  glanced  apprehensively  at  Dorothy. 
And  I  have  wondered  since  at  his  consideration. 

"Miss  Manners  may  not  wish  to  hear,"  he  said  uneasily. 

"Miss  Manners  hears  all  that  concerns  me,"  I  answered. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  comprehension. 

"  It  was  Mr.  Manners,  then,  who  went  oo  Mr.  Dix,  and  told 
him  under  the  pledge  of  secrecy." 

Not  a  sound  came  from  Dorothy,  '  or  did  I  dare  to  look  at 
her  face.  The  whole  matter  was  cle.tr  to  me  now.  After  his 
conversation  with  me,  Mr.  Marn^aduke  had  lost  no  time  in 
seeing  Mr.  Dix,  in  order  to  ra' ^e  money  on  my  prospects. 
And  the  man  of  business  had  gone  straight  to  Grafton  with 
the  intelligence.  The  suspicion  flashed  through  me  that  Mr. 
Allen  had  been  sent  to  spy,  but  his  very  next  words  disarmed  it. 

"And  now,  Richard,"  he  continued,  "before  I  say  what  I 
have  come  to  say,  and  since  you  cannot  now  prosecute  me,  I 
mean  to  confess  to  you  something  which  you  probably  know 
almost  to  a  certainty.  I  was  in  the  plot  to  carry  you  off  and 
deprive  you  of  your  fortune.     I  have  been  paid  for  it,  though 


526  RICHARD   CARVEL 

not  very  handsomely.  Fears  for  my  own  safety  alone  kept  me 
from  telling  you  and  Mr.  Swain.  And  I  swear  to  you  that  I 
was  sorry  for  the  venture  almost  before  I  had  embarked,  and 
ere  I  had  received  a  shilling.  The  scheme  was  laid  out  before 
I  took  you  for  a  pupil;  indeed,  that  was  part  of  it,  as  you  no 
doubt  have  guessed.  As  God  hears  me,  I  learned  to  love  you, 
Richard,  in  those  days  at  the  rectory.  You  were  all  of  a  man, 
and  such  an  one  as  I  might  have  hoped  to  be  had  I  been  born 
like  you.  You  said  what  you  chose,  and  spoke  from  your 
own  convictions,  and  catered  to  no  one.  You  did  not  whine 
when  the  luck  went  against  you,  but  lost  like  a  gentleman, 
and  thought  no  more  of  it.  You  had  no  fear  of  the  devil  him- 
self. Why  should  you?  While  your  cousin  Philip,  with  his 
parrot  talk  and  sneaking  ways,  turned  my  stomach.  I  was 
sick  of  him,  and  sick  of  Grafton,  I  tell  you.  But  dread  of 
your  uncle  drove  me  on,  and  I  had  debts  to  frighten  me." 

He  paused.  'Twas  with  a  strange  medley  of  emotions  I 
looked  at  him.  And  Dorothy,  too,  was  leaning  forward,  her 
lips  parted  and  her  eyes  riveted  upon  his  face. 

"Oh,  I  am  speaking  the  truth,"  he  said  bitterly.  "And  I 
assume  no  virtue  for  the  little  justice  it  remains  in  my  power 
to  do.  It  is  the  lot  of  my  life  that  I  must  be  false  to  some 
one  always,  and  even  now  I  am  false  to  your  uncle.  Yes,  I 
am  come  to  do  justice,  and  'tis  a  strange  errand  for  me.  I 
know  that  estates  have  been  restored  to  you  by  the  Maryland 
Legislature,  Richard,  aud  I  believe  in  my  heart  that  you  will 
win  this  war."  Here  \e  fetched  a  memorandum  from  his 
pocket.  "But  to  make  yon  secure,"  said  he,  "in  the  year 
1710,  and  on  the  9th  of  Mirch,  old  style,  your  great-grand- 
father, Mr.  George  Carvel,  d.  ew  up  a  document  entailing  the 
lands  of  Carvel. Hall.     By  this  they  legally  pass  to  you." 

"The  family  settlement  Mr.  Swain  suspected!  "  I  exclaimed. 

"Just  so,"  he  answered. 

"And  what  am  I  to  pay  for  this  information?"  I  asked. 

Hardly  were  the  words  spoken,  when  Dorothy  ran  to  my 
bedside,  and  seizing  my  hand,  faced  him. 

"He  —  he  is  not  well,  Mr.  Allen,"  she  cried. 

The  rector  had  risen,  and  stood  gazing  down  at  us  with  the 


HOW  GOOD  CAME   OUT   OF  EVIL  527 

whole  of  his  life  written  on  his  face.  That  look  was  fearful 
to  see,  and  all  of  hell  was  expressed  therein.  For  what  is 
hell  if  it  is  not  hope  dead  and  buried,  and  galling  regret  for 
what  might  have  been?  With  mine  own  great  happiness  so 
contrasted  against  his  torture,  my  heart  melted. 

"I  am  not  well,  indeed,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  said.  "God  knows 
how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  forgive,  but  I  forgive  you  this  night." 

One  brief  instant  he  stared  at  me,  and  then  tumbled  sud- 
denly down  into  his  chair,  his  head  falling  forward  on  his 
arms.  And  the  long  sobs  by  which  his  frame  was  shaken  awed 
our  very  souls.  Dorothy  drew  back  against  me,  clasping  my 
shoulder,  the  tears  wet  upon  her  cheeks.  What  we  looked  on. 
there  in  the  candlelight,  was  the  Revelation  itself. 

How  long  it  endured  none  of  us  might  say.  And  when  at 
last  he  raised  his  face,  it  was  haggard  and  worn  in  truth,  but 
the  evil  of  it  seemed  to  have  fled.  Again  and  again  he  strove 
to  speak.  The  words  Avould  not  obey.  And  when  he  had 
mastered  himself,  his  voice  was  shattered  and  gone. 

"  Richard,  I  have  sinned  heavily  in  my  time,  and  preached 
God's  holy  word  with  a  sneer  and  unbelief  in  my  heart.  He 
knows  what  I  have  suffered,  and  what  I  shall  yet  suffer  before 
His  judgment  comes  for  us  all.  But  I  beg  it  is  no  sin  to  pray 
to  Him  for  your  happiness  and  Miss  Dorothy's." 

He  stumbled  there,  and  paused,  and  then  continued  with 
more  steadiness :  — 

"  I  came  here  to-night  to  betray  you,  and  might  have  gone 
hence  to  your  uncle  to  claim  my  pieces  of  silver.  I  remain  to 
tell  you  that  Grafton  has  an  appointment  at  nine  with  his 
Majesty's  chief  Secretary  of  State.  I  need  not  mention  his 
motives,  nor  dwell  upon  your  peril.  For  the  King's  senti- 
ments toward  Paul  Jones  are  well  known.  You  must  leave 
London  without  delay,  and  so  must  Mr.  Manners  and  his 
family." 

Is  it  the  generations  which  decide?  When  I  remember  how 
Dorothy  behaved  that  night,  I  think  so.  Scarce  had  the  rector 
ceased  when  she  had  released  me  and  was  standing  erect 
before  him.  Pity  was  in  her  eyes,  but  in  her  face  that  courage 
which  danger  itself  begets  in  heroic  women. 


528  RICHARD   CARVEL 

"You  have  acted  a  noble  part  this  day,  Mr.  Allen,"  she 
said,  "  to  atone  for  the  wrongs  you  have  done  Richard.  May 
God  forgive  you,  and  make  you  happier  than  you  have  been!  " 

He  struggled  to  his  feet,  listening  as  to  a  benediction. 
Then,  with  a  single  glance  to  give  me  confidence,  she  was 
gone.     And  for  a  minute  there  was  silence  between  us. 

"How  may  you  be  directed  to?"  I  asked. 

He  leaped  as  out  of  a  trance. 

"Just  'the  world,'  Richard,"  said  he.  "For  I  am  adrift 
again,  and  not  very  like  to  find  a  harbour,  now." 

"You  were  to  have  been  paid  for  this,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  replied. 
"And  a  man  must  live." 

"  A  man  must  live ! "  he  cried.  "  The  devil  coined  that  line, 
and  made  it  some  men's  history." 

"I  have  you  on  my  conscience,  Mr.  Allen,"  I  went  on,  "for 
I  have  been  at  fault  as  well  as  you.  I  might  have  treated  you 
better,  even  as  you  have  said.  And  I  command  you  to  assign 
a  place  in  London  whence  you  may  be  reached." 

"A  letter  to  the  Mitre  coffee-house  will  be  delivered,"  he 
said. 

"  You  shall  receive  it,"  I  answered.  "And  now  I  bid  you 
good-by,  and  thank  you." 

He  seized  and  held  my  hand.  Then  walked  blindly  to  the 
door  and  turned  abruptly. 

"  I  do  not  tell  you  that  I  shall  change  my  life,  Richard,  for 
I  have  said  that  too  many  times  before.  Indeed,  I  warn  you 
that  any  money  you  may  send  will  be  spent  in  drink,  and  — 
and  worse.  I  will  be  no  hypocrite  to  jovl.  But  I  believe 
that  I  am  better  this  hour  than  I  have  been  since  last  I  knelt 
at  my  mother's  knee  in  the  little  Oxfordshire  cottage  where 
I  was  born." 

When  Dorothy  returned  to  me,  there  was  neither  haste  in 
her  step  nor  excitement  in  her  voice.  Her  very  coolness  in- 
spired me. 

"Do  you  feel  strong  enough  for  a  journey,  Richard?"  she 
asked. 

"To  the  world's  end,  Dolly,  if  you  will  but  go  with  me." 


HOW   GOOD   CAME   OUT   OF  EVIL  629 

She  smiled  faintly.  "I  have  sent  off  for  my  Lord  and 
Mr.  Fox,  and  pray  that  one  of  them  may  be  here  presently." 

Scarcely  greater  were  the  visible  signs  of  apprehension  upon 
Mrs.  Manners.  Her  first  care,  and  Dorothy's,  was  to  catechise 
me  most  particularly  on  my  state.  And  whilst  they  were  so 
occupied  Mr.  Marmaduke  entered,  wholly  frenzied  from  fright, 
and  utterly  oblivious  to  his  own  blame  in  the  matter.  He  was 
sent  out  again  directly.  After  that,  with  Aunt  Lucy  to  assist, 
they  hurriedly  packed  what  few  things  might  be  taken.  The 
costly  relics  of  Arlington  Street  were  untouched,  and  the 
French  clock  was  left  on  the  mantel  to  tick  all  the  night,  and 
for  days  to  come,  in  a  silent  and  forsaken  room;  or  perhaps 
to  greet  impassively  the  King's  officers  when  they  broke  in  at 
the  door.  But  I  cauglit  my  lady  in  the  act  of  wrapping  up 
the  Wedgwood  cups  and  dishes. 

In  the  midst  of  these  preparations  Mr.  Fox  was  heard  with- 
out, and  was  met  at  the  door  by  Dorothy.  Two  sentences 
sufficed  her  to  tell  him  what  had  occurred,  and  two  seconds 
for  this  man  of  action  to  make  liis  decision. 

"  In  an  hour  you  shall  have  travelling  chaises  here,  Dorothy,"- 
he  said.  "You  must  go  to  Portsmouth,  and  take  ship  for 
Lisbon.     And  if  Jack  does  not  arrive,  I  will  go  with  you." 

"No,  Charles,  you  must  not!"  she  cried,  her  emotion  con- 
quering her  for  the  nonce.  "That  might  be  to  ruin  your 
career,  and  perchance  to  lose  your  life.  And  suppose  we  were 
to  escape,  what  would  they  say  of  you !  " 

"  Pish !  "  Charles  retorted,  to  hide  some  feelings  of  his  own  ; 
"  once  our  rebel  is  out  of  the  country,  they  may  speak  their 
minds.  They  have  never  lacked  for  names  to  call  me,  and  I 
have  been  dubbed  a  traitor  before  now,  my  dear  lady." 

He  stepped  hastily  to  the  bed,  and  laid  his  hand  on  me  with 
affection. 

"  Charles,"  I  said,  "this  is  all  of  a  piece  with  your  old  reck- 
lessness. You  were  ever  one  to  take  any  risk,  but  I  will  not 
hear  of  such  a  venture  as  this.  Do  you  think  I  will  allow  the 
hope  of  all  England  to  be  staked  for  a  pirate?  And  would 
you  break  our  commander  of  her  rank?  All  that  Dorothy 
need  do  at  Portsmouth    is   to   curtsey   to  the   first   skipper 

2  M 


530  KICHARD   CARYEL 

she  meets,  and  I'll  warrant  he  will  carry  us  all  to  the  antip- 
odes." 

"Egad,  but  that  is  more  practical  thau  it  sounds,"  he  re- 
plied, with  a  glance  of  admiration  at  my  lady,  as  sh^e  stood 
so  tall  before  us.  "She  has  a  cool  head,  Richard  Carvel, 
and  a  long  head,  and  —  and  I'm  thinking  you  are  to  come  ou; 
of  this  the  best  of  all  of  us.  You  cannot  get  far  off  your 
course,  my  lad,  with  her  at  the  helm." 

It  was  there  his  voice  belied  the  jest  in  his  words,  and  he 
left  us  with  precipitation. 

They  lifted  me  out  of  my  sheets  (I  was  appalled  to  discover 
my  weakness),  and  bundled  me  with  tender  care  in  a  dozen 
shawls  and  blankets.  My  feet  were  thrust  into  two  pairs  of 
heavy  woollen  stockings,  and  Dorothy  bound  her  own  silk  ker- 
chief at  my  throat,  whispering  anxious  questions  the  while. 
And  when  her  mother  and  mammy  went  from  the  room,  her 
arms  flew  around  my  neck  in  a  passion  of  solicitude.  Then 
she  ran  away  to  dress  for  the  journey,  and  in  a  surprising 
short  time  was  back  again,  with  her  muff  and  her  heavy  cloak, 
and  bending  over  me  to  see  if  I  gave  any  signs  of  failure. 

Fifty  and  live  minutes  had  been  registered  by  the  French 
clock,  when  the  rattle  of  wheels  and  the  clatter  of  hoofs  sounded 
below,  and  Charles  Fox  panted  up  the  stairs,  muffled  in  a  huge 
wrap-rascal.  'Twas  he  and  Aunt  Lucy  carried  me  down  to  the 
street,  Dorothy  walking  at  my  side,  and  propped  me  up  in  the 
padded  corner  of  one  of  the  tAvo  vehicles  in  waiting.  This  was 
an  ample  travelling-carriage  with  a  lamp  hanging  from  its  top, 
by  the  light  of  which  ray  lady  tucked  me  in  from  head  to  foot, 
and  then  took  her  place  next  me.  Aunt  Lucy  filled  most  of 
the  seat  opposite.  The  baggage  was  hoisted  up  behind,  and 
Charles  was  about  to  slam  the  door,  when  a  hackney-chaise 
turned  the  corner  at  a  gallop  and  pulled  up  in  the  narrow  street 
abreast,  and  the  figure  of  my  Lord  Comyn  suddenly  leaped 
within  the  compass  of  the  lanthorn's  rays.  He  was  dressed 
as  for  a  ball,  with  only  a  thin  rain-cloak  over  his  shoulders, 
for  the  night  was  thick  with  mist.  He  threw  at  us  a  startled 
look  that  was  a  question. 

"Jack,  Richard  is  to  be  betrayed  to-night  by  his  uncle," 


HOW  GOOD   CAME  OUT  OF  EVIL  531 

said  Charles,  shortly.     "  And  I  am  taking  them  to  Portsmouth 
to  get  them  off  for  Lisbon." 

"Charles,"  said  his  Lordship,  sternly,  "give  me  that  great- 
coat." 

It  was  just  the  one  time  that  ever  I  saw  uncertainty  on 
Mr.  Fox's  face.     He  threw  an  uneasy  glance  into  the  chaise. 

"I  have  brought  money,"  his  Lordship  went  on  rapidly; 
"  'twas  that  kept  me,  for  I  guessed  at  something  of  this  kind. 
Give  me  the  coat,  I  say." 

Mr.  Fox  wriggled  out  of  it,  and  took  the  oiled  cape  in  return. 
"Thank  you.  Jack,"  he  said  simply,  and  stepped  into  the  car- 
riage. "Who  is  to  mend  my  waistcoats  now?"  he  cried. 
"  Faith,  I  shall  treasure  this  against  you,  Eichard.  Good-by, 
my  lad,  and  obey  your  rebel  general.  Alas !  I  must  even  ask 
your  permission  to  salute  her." 

And  he  kissed  the  unresisting  Dorothy  on  both  her  cheeks. 
"God  keep  the  two  of  you,"  he  said,  "for  I  love  you  with  all 
my  heart." 

Before  we  could  answer  he  was  gone  into  the  night;  and  my 
Lord,  standing  without,  had  closed  the  carriage  door.  And 
that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  this  noble  man,  the  true  friend  of 
America,  who  devoted  his  glorious  talents  and  his  life  to  fight- 
ing the  corruption  that  was  rotting  the  greatness  of  England. 
He  who  was  followed  by  the  prayers  of  the  English  race  was 
ever  remembered  in  our  own  humble  ones. 


CHAPTER  LVII 

I   COME    TO    MY    OWN    A6AIK 

'TwAS  a  rough,  wild  journey  we  made  to  Portsmouth,  my 
dears,  and  I  think  it  must  have  killed  me  had  not  my  lady 
been  at  my  side.  We  were  no  sooner  started  than  she  pulled 
the  curtains  and  opened  her  portmanteau,  which  I  saw  was 
near  filled  with  things  for  my  aid  and  comfort.  And  I  was 
made  to  take  a  spoonful  of  something.  Never,  I  believe, 
was  medicine  swallowed  with  a  greater  willingness.  Talk  was 
impossible,  so  I  lay  back  in  the  corner  and  looked  at  her;  and 
now  and  anon  she  would  glance  at  my  face,  with  a  troubled 
guess  in  her  own  as  to  how  I  might  stand  the  night.  For  we 
were  still  in  London.  That  I  knew  by  the  trot  of  our  horses, 
and  by  the  granite  we  traversed  from  time  to  time.  But  at 
length  we  rumbled  over  a  bridge,  there  was  a  sharp  call  back 
from  our  post-boy  to  him  of  the  chaise  behind,  and  then  began 
that  rocking  and  pitching  and  swaying  and  creaking,  which 
was  to  last  the  whole  night  long,  save  for  the  brief  stops  at 
the  post-houses. 

After  an  hour  of  it,  I  was  holding  my  breath  against  the 
lurches,  like  a  sea-sick  man  against  that  bottomless  fall  of  the 
ship's  bows  on  the  ocean.  I  had  no  pain, —  only  an  over- 
whelming exhaustion,  —  but  the  joy  of  her  touch  and  her 
presence  kept  me  from  failing.  And  though  Aunt  Lucy  dozed, 
not  a  wink  of  sleep  did  my  lady  get  through  all  of  those  weary 
twelve  hours.  Always  alert  was  she,  solicitous  beyond  belief, 
scanning  ever  the  dial  of  her  watch  to  know  when  to  give  me 
brandy  and  physic;  or  reaching  across  to  feel  my  temples  for 
the  fever.  The  womanliness  of  that  last  motion  was  a  thing 
for  a  man  to  wonder  at.     But  most  marvellous  of  all  was  the 

632 


I  COME   TO   MY  OWN   AGAIN  533 

instinct  which  told  her  of  my  chief  sickening  discomfort, —  of 
the  leathery,  travelled  smell  of  the  carriage.  As  a  relief  for 
this  she  charged  her  pocket-napkin  with  a  most  delicate  per- 
fume, and  held  it  to  my  face. 

When  we  drew  up  to  shift  horses,  Jack  would  come  to  the 
door  to  inquire  if  there  was  aught  she  wanted,  and  to  know 
how  I  was  bearing  up.  And  often  Mrs.  Manners  likewise. 
At  first  I  was  for  talking  with  them,  but  this  Dorothy  would 
not  allow.  Presently,  indeed,  it  was  beyond  my  power,  and 
I  could  only  smile  feebly  at  my  Lord  when  I  heard  Dolly  asking 
him  that  the  hostlers  might  be  more  quiet.  Toward  morning 
a  lethargy  fell  upon  me.  Once  1  awoke  when  the  lamp  had 
burned  low,  to  perceive  the  curtains  drawn  back,  a  black  blotch 
of  trees  without,  and  the  moonlight  streaming  in  on  my  lady's 
features.     With  the  crack  of  a  whip  I  was  off  again. 

When  next  consciousness  came,  the  tarry,  salt  smell  of  a 
ship  was  in  my  nostrils,  and  I  knew  that  we  were  embarked. 
I  lay  in  a  clean  bunk  in  a  fair-sized  and  sun- washed  cabin,  and 
I  heard  the  scraping  of  ropes  and  the  tramp  of  feet  on  the  deck 
above  my  head.  Framed  against  the  irregular  glass  of  the 
cabin  window,  which  was  greened  by  the  water  beyond,  Doro- 
thy and  my  Lord  stood  talking  in  whispers. 

"Jack!"  I  said. 

At  the  sound  they  turned  and  ran  toward  me,  asking  how  I 
felt. 

"  I  feel  that  words  are  very  empty,  Jack,  to  express  such  a 
gratitude  as  mine,"  I  answered.  "Twice  you  have  saved  me 
from  death,  you  have  paid  my  debts,  and  have  been  stanch 
to  us  both  in  our  troubles.  And  —  "  The  effort  was  beyond 
me,  and  I  glanced  appealingly  at  Dolly. 

"And  it  is  to  you,  dear  Jack,"  she  finished,  "it  is  to  you 
alone  that  we  owe  the  great  joy  of  our  lives." 

Her  eyes  were  shining  through  her  tears,  and  her  smile  was 
like  the  sun  out  of  a  rain-swept  sky.  His  Lordship  took  one 
of  her  hands  in  his  own,  and  one  of  mine.  He  scanned  our 
faces  in  a  long,  lingering  look. 

"You  will  cherish  her,  Richard,"  he  said  brokenly,  "for 
lier  like  is  not  to  be  found  in  this  world.     I  knew  her  worth 


534  RICHARD   CARVEL 

when  first  she  came  to  London,  as  arrant  a  baggage  as  ever  led 
man  a  dance.  I  saw  then  that  a  great  love  alone  was  needed 
to  make  her  the  highest  among  women,  and  from  the  night  I 
fonght  with  you  at  the  Coifee  House  I  have  felt  upon  whom 
that  love  would  fall.  0  thou  of  little  faith,"  he  cried,  "  what 
little  I  may  have  done  has  been  for  her.  No,  Richard,  you  do 
not  deserve  her,  but  I  would  rather  think  of  her  as  your  wife 
than  that  of  any  man  living." 

****** 

I  shall  not  dwell  upon  that  painful  farewell  which  wrung 
our  hearts,  and  made  us  silent  for  a  long,  long  while  after  the 
ship  was  tossing  in  the  short  seas  of  the  Channel. 

Nor  is  it  my  purpose  to  tell  you  of  that  long  voyage  across 
the  Atlantic.  We  reached  Lisbon  in  safety,  and  after  a  week 
of  lodgings  in  that  city  by  tlie  best  of  fortune  got  passage  in  a 
swift  bark  bound  for  Baltimore.  For  the  Chesapeake  com- 
mer(;e  continued  throughout  the  war,  and  kept  alive  the  credit 
of  the  young  nation.  There  were  many  excitements  ere  we 
sigated  the  sand-spits  of  Virginia,  and  off  the  Azores  we  were 
chased  for  a  day  and  a  night  by  a  British  sloop  of  war. 
Our  captain,  however,  was  a  cool  man  and  a  seaman,  and 
slipped  through  the  cruisers  lying  in  wait  off  the  Capes 
very  triumphantly. 

But  the  remembrance  of  those  fair  days  at  sea  fills  my  soul 
with  longing.  The  weather  was  mild  and  bright  for  the 
season,  and  morning  upon  morning  two  stout  topmen  would 
carry  me  out  to  a  sheltered  spot  on  the  deck,  always  chosen 
by  my  lady  herself.  There  I  sat  by  the  hour,  swathed  in  many 
layers  of  wool,  and  tended  by  her  hands  alone.  Every  nook 
and  cranny  of  our  lives  were  revealed  to  the  other.  She  loved 
to  hear  of  Patty  and  my  years  at  Gordon's,  and  would  listen 
with  bated  breath  to  the  stories  of  the  Ranger  and  the  Bon 
homme  Richard,  and  of  that  strange  man  whom  we  both  loved, 
whose  genius  had  made  those  cruises  famous.  Sometimes, 
in  low  voices,  we  talked  of  our  future;  but  often,  when  the 
wind  blew  and  the  deck  rocked  and  the  sun  flashed  upon,  the 
waters,  a  silence  would  fall  between  us  that  needed  no  words 
to  interpret. 


I   COME  TO   MY  OWN  AGAIN  635 

Mrs.  Manners  yielded  to  my  wish  for  us  all  to  go  to  Carvel 
Hall.  It  was  on  a  sparkling  morning  in  February  that  we 
sighted  the  familiar  toe  of  Kent  Island,  and  the  good-natured 
skipper  put  about  and  made  for  the  mouth  of  our  river.  Then, 
as  of  old,  the  white  cupola  of  Carvel  House  gleamed  a  signal 
of  greeting,  to  which  our  full  hearts  beat  a  silent  response. 
Once  again  the  great  windmill  waved  its  welcome,  and  the 
same  memory  was  upon  us  both  as  we  gazed.  Of  a  hale  old 
gentleman  in  the  sheets  of  a  sailing  pinnace,  of  a  boy  and  a 
girl  on  his  knees  quivering  with  excitement  of  the  days  to 
come.  Dorothy  gently  pressed  my  hand  as  the  bark  came 
into  the  wind,  and  the  boat  was  dropped  into  the  green  water. 
Slowly  they  lowered  me  into  it,  for  I  was  still  helpless,  Doro- 
thy and  her  mother  and  Aunt  Lucy  were  got  down,  and  finally 
Mr.  Marmaduke  stepped  gingerly  from  the  sea-ladder  over  the 
gunwale.  The  cutter  leaped  under  the  strong  strokes  up  the 
river  with  the  tide.  Then,  as  we  rounded  the  bend,  we  were 
suddenly  astonished  to  see  people  gathered  on  the  landing  at 
the  foot  of  the  lawn,  where  they  had  run,  no  doubt,  in  a  flurry 
at  sight  of  the  ship  below.  In  the  front  of  the  group  stood 
out  a  strangely  familiar  figure. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Dolly,  "it  is  Ivie  Rawlinson!" 

Ivie  it  was,  sure  enough.  And  presently,  when  we  drew  a 
little  closer,  he  gave  one  big  shout  and  whipped  off  the  hat 
from  his  head;  and  off,  too,  came  the  caps  from  the  white 
heads  of  Scipio  and  Chess  and  Johnson  behind  him.  Our  oars 
were  tossed,  Ivie  caught  our  bows,  and  reached  his  hand  to 
Dorothy.  It  was  fitting  that  she  should  be  the  first  to  land  at 
Carvel  Hall. 

"'Twas  yere  bonny  face  I  seed  first.  Miss  Dolly,"  he  cried, 
the  tears  coursing  down  the  scars  of  his  cheeks.  "An'  syne  I 
kennt  weel  the  young  master  was  here.  Noo  God  be  praised 
for  this  blythe  day,  that  Mr.  Richard's  cam  to  his  ain  at  last!  " 

But  Scipio  and  Chess  could  only  blubber  as  they  helped  him 
to  lift  me  out,  Dolly  begging  them  to  be  careful.  As  they  car- 
ried me  up  the  familiar  path  to  the  pillared  porch,  the  first 
I  asked  Ivie  was  of  Patty,  and  next  why  he  had  left  Gordon's. 
She  was  safe  and  well,  despite  the  Tories,  and  herself  had  sent 


536  RICHARD  CARVEL 

him  to  take  charge  of  Carvel  Hall  as  soon  as  ever  Judge 
Bordley  had  brought  her  the  news  of  its  restoration  to  me.  He 
had  supplied  her  with  another  overseer.  Thanks  to  the  good 
judge  and  to  Colonel  Lloyd,  who  had  looked  to  my  interests 
since. Grafton  was  fled,  Ivie  had  found  the  old  place  in  good 
order,  all  the  negroes  quiet,  and  impatient  with  joy  against 
my  arrival. 

It  is  time,  my  children,  to  bring  this  story  to  a  close.  I 
would  I  might  write  of  those  delicious  spring  days  I  spent  with 
Dorothy  at  Carvel  Hall,  waited  on  by  the  old  servants  of  my 
grandfather.  At  our  whim  my  chair  would  be  moved  from  one 
to  another  of  the  childhood  haunts ;  on  cool  days  we  sat  in  the 
sun  by  the  dial,  where  the  flowers  mingled  their  odours  with 
the  salt  breezes  off  the  Chesapeake;  or  anon,  when  it  was 
warmer,  in  the  summer-house  my  mother  loved,  or  under  the 
shade  of  the  great  trees  on  the  lawn,  looking  out  over  the 
river.  And  once  my  lady  went  off  very  mysteriously,  her  eyes 
brimful  of  mischief,  to  come  back  with  the  first  strawberries 
of  the  year  staining  her  apron. 

We  were  married  on  the  tifteenth  of  June,  already  an  anni- 
versary for  us  both,  in  the  long  drawing-room.  General  Clap- 
saddle  was  there  from  the  army  to  take  Dorothy  in  his  arms, 
even  as  he  had.  embraced  another  bride  on  the  same  spot  in 
years  gone  by.  She  wore  the  wedding  gown  that  was  her 
mother's,  but  when  the  hour  was  come  to  dress  her  Aunt  Lucy 
and  Aunt  Hester  failed  in  their  task,  and  it  was  Patty  who 
performed  the  most  of  that  office,  and  hung  the  necklace  of 
pearls  about  her  neck. 

Dear  Patty !  She  hath  often  been  with  us  since.  You  have 
heard  your  mothers  and  fathers  speak  of  Aunt  Patty,  my  dears, 
and  they  will  tell  you  how  she  spoiled  them  when  they  went 
a-visiting  to  Gordon's  Pride. 

Ere  I  had  regained  my  health,  the  war  for  Independence 
was  won.  I  pray  God  that  time  may  soften  the  bitterness  it 
caused,  and  heal  the  breach  in  that  noble  race  whose  motto  is 
Freedom.  That  the  Stars  and  Stripes  and  the  Union  Jack 
may  one  day  float  together  to  cleanse  this  world  of  tyranny  I 


With  the  first  strawberries  of  the  year 


AFTERWORD 

The  author  makes  most  humble  apologies  to  any  who  have, 
or  think  they  have,  an  ancestor  in  this  book.  He  has  drawn 
the  foregoing  with  a  very  free  hand,  and  in  the  Maryland 
scenes  has  made  use  of  names  rather  than  of  actual  personages. 
His  purpose,  however  poorly  accomplished,  was  to  give  some 
semblance  of  reality  to  this  part  of  the  story.  Hence  he  has 
introduced  those  names  in  the  setting,  choosing  them  entirely 
at  random  from  the  many  prominent  families  of  the  colony. 

No  one  may  read  the  annals  of  these  men,  who  were  at 
once  brave  and  courtly,  and  of  these  women,  who  were  ladies 
by  nature  as  well  as  by  birth,  and  not  love  them.  The 
fascination  of  that  free  and  hospitable  life  has  been  so  strong 
on  the  writer  of  this  novel  that  he  closes  it  with  a  genuine 
regret  and  the  hope  that  its  perusal  may  lead  others  to  the 
pleasure  he  has  derived  from  the  history  of  Maryland. 

As  few  liberties  as  possible  have  been  taken  with  the  lives 
of  Charles  James  Fox  and  of  John  Paul  Jones.  The  latter 
hero  actually  made  a  voyage  in  the  brigantine  John  about  the 
time  he  picked  up  Richard  Carvel  from  the  Black  Moll,  after 
the  episode  with  Mungo  Maxwell  at  Tobago.  The  Scotch 
scene,  of  course,  is  purely  imaginary.  Accuracy  has  been 
aimed  at  in  the  account  of  the  fight  between  the  Bon  homme 
Richard  and  the  Serapis,  while  a  little  different  arrangement 

637 


538  AFTERWORD 

might  have  been  better  for  the  medium  of  the  narrative.  To 
be  sure,  it  was  Mr.  Mease,  the  purser,  instead  of  Eichard 
Carvel,  who  so  bravely  fought  the  quarter-deck  guns ;  and  in 
reality  Midshipman  Mayrant,  Commodore  Jones's  aide,  was 
wounded  by  a  pike  in  the  thigh  after  the  surrender,  "  No 
injustice  is  done  to  the  second  and  third  lieutenants,  who  were 
absent  from  the  ship  during  the  action. 

The  author  must  acknowledge  that  the  only  good  anecdote 
in  the  book  and  the  only  verse  worth  printing  are  stolen.  The 
story  on  page  340  concerning  Mr.  Garrick  and  the  Archbishop 
of  York  may  be  found  in  Fitzgerald's  life  of  the  actor,  much 
better  told.  The  verse  on  page  99  is  by  an  unknown  author 
in  the  Annapolis  Gazette,  and  is  republished  in  Mr,  Elihu 
Kiley's  excellent  "  History  of  Annapolis." 


THE  CHOIR  INVISIBLE 

BY 

JAMES    LANE   ALLEN 

Author  of  "Summer  in  Arcady,"  Etc, 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS   BY  ORSON    LOWELL 

Cloth.    12mo.    $2.50 


Buffalo  Commercial : 
"  Far  above  the  average  of  novels,  intrinsically  strong  and  meritorious." 

George  Hamlin  Fitch: 
"  An  enormous  stimulus  to  all  that  is  highest  and  best  in  one's  nature." 

Bliss  Carman,  in  The  Evening  Transcript,  Boston : 

"There  are  two  chief  reasons  why  Mr.  Allen  seems  to  me  one  of  the 

first  of  our  novelists  to-day.      He  is  most  exquisitely  alive  to  the  fine  spirit  of 

comedy.     He  has  a  prose  style  of  wonderful  beauty,  conscientiousness,  and 

simplicity." 

Daily  Chronicle,  London: 

"  Highly  praised  and  with  reason.      It  is  written  with  singular  delicacy, 

and  has  an  old  world  fragrance  which  seems  to  come  from  the  classics  we 

keep  in  lavender." 

The  Dial,  Chicago : 

"There  are  descriptive  passages  so  exquisitely  wrought  that  the  reader 
lingers  over  them  to  make  them  a  possession  forever;  there  are  inner  experi- 
ences so  intensely  realized  that  they  become  a  part  of  the  life  of  his  own  soul." 

Hamilton  Mabie,  in  The  Outlook:  • 

"  One  reads  the  story  for  the  story's  sake,  and  then  re-reads  the  book  out 
of  pure  delight  in  its  beauty.  The  story  is  American  to  the  very  core.  .  .  . 
Mr.  Allen  stands  to-day  in  the  front  rank  of  American  novelists.  'The  Choir 
Invisil)le '  will  solidify  a  reputation  already  established  and  bring  into  clear 
light  his  rare  gifts  as  an  artist.  P'or  this  latest  story  is  as  genuine  a  work  of 
art  as  has  come  from  an  American  hand." 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

66   Fifth   Avenue 

NEW   YORK 


THE    CELEBRITY 

An  Episode 

BY 

WINSTON    CHURCHILL 


Crown  8vo.      Cloth.      $1.50 


The  Brooklyn  Eagle: 

"One  of  the  best  stories  that  has  come  from  the  presses  in  the  last  six 
months.  The  plot  is  novel,  the  central  idea  clear,  and  the  incidents  are 
worked  out  with  a  degree  of  skill  and  good  taste  that  are  eminently  satisfac- 
tory.    Its  quiet  humor  is  one  of  its  best  qualities." 

Inter-Ocean,  Chicago: 

"No  such  piece  of  inimitable  comedy  in  a  literary  way  has  appeared  for 
years.  ...    It  is  the  purest,  keenest  fun." 

Boston  Courier: 

"This  is  a  delightfully  entertaining  novel,  and  it  is  seldom  that  one  of 
sufh  masterly  qualities,  by  a  new  author,  wins  its  way  to  public  favor  as 
this  is  sure  to  do." 

Boston  Transcript: 

« It  is  an  extremely  clever  piece  of  work  that  is  likely  to  De  as  popular  as 
it  deserves." 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
(^   Fifth   Avenue 

NEW  YORK 


I 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


lllllllllllll 

AA      000  245  571    5 


